Family Game
by Juneblue
Summary: Second Sasuke hits eighteen, he snatches custody of his kid brother—Naruto. However, raising a young'un while studying and working strains on family ideals. And down the line, their bond starts running deeper than just family. SHOTA. SasuNaru. Pseudo-incest. Brotherly!Sasuke Young!Naruto.
1. Leaving

_Warnings_: dysfunctional family, toxic co-dependency, _slow build_, eventual boyxboy love, shota later on because of the age gap. There will be female on male abuse in this story, which I feel is a different form; and it will play as a recurring theme here among others. Sasuke and Naruto are not blood brothers, but that is information not obvious to the characters in the story. Sasuke is sixteen and Naruto's six, in this chapter.

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><p><strong>...<strong>

**Chapter One  
><strong>  
><strong>Leaving<strong>

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The office of good news, is the very prison cell of bad memories.

"Get straight to packing. Otherwise you'll miss the next bus," says the clipped voice of the Director. Her eyes seem narrowed permanently, as if always scrutinizing. "Once again congratulations Sasuke on your scholarship. Do you hear me?"

He could tell she was sore as hell. Especially when he only says, "No."

And discreetly, Sasuke reaches into his pockets while sitting in his seat. Just to check. For as her words rings clearly, instinct jolts him into reaching for the little piece of Naruto's he got. He grasps this white piece of tablecloth crumpled into a ball, and stealthily feels its coarse material with the pads of his fingertips. Naruto's present to him, from this morning.

"—do you understand me, young man? The semester's beginning tomorrow, and there's no more delaying this," she leans forward, perched behind her desk.

Keeping their staring contest intact, Sasuke squeezes the balled up cloth: which is no more than a drawing of them together, as well as the Director herself. He's still impressed Naruto fitted the masterpiece on such a small square. Still marveling how this is the first full human portrait Naruto's ever drawn. For a painfully fleeting moment, for what it's worth, Sasuke briefly closes his eyes, to see what Naruto sees. And actually, the Director turns out a spitting copy of Naruto's drawings—a stick figure with wiry black hair, forced into a high bun, and her bespectacled eyes asymmetrical.

When silence reverberates, she unhappily folds her hands over her magnificent wooden desk. "Listen closely. You've had enough time to digest. And either you leave tonight before the school semester launches off, or I will have to inform your benefactor—"

"Naruto," he cuts in, as if jolting awake, "I can take Naruto with me."

Her face contorts in scorn. It was funny. He always thought her face couldn't twitch the slightest.

"Absolutely not. Naruto stays, you know better Sasuke," she chews out, like rehashed spit, but quickly shifts to more persuasive tones, "However if you take this scholarship, develop financial stability, and perform well in all your classes…you may request to fill out an application for legal guardianship. In two years, that is. That is the minimum age for an adult."

"And no one else adopts him," adds Sasuke, as another indisputable caveat.

Again she scowls imperceptibly, and her tone drops like a stack of books—hard, cold, and sarcastic. "Young man, that's beyond me ethically and professionally. How you even suggest stamping Naruto as off-limits astounds me as much as it's disappointing. Now, please do consider my early recommendations…"

Sasuke's eyes darken, and his heart's thumping a maddening melody. "There's nobody else. No one. No one will take care of him like me."

"And what do you have to your name, Sasuke? You're nothing but a child." The Director tilts her head forward, angling her gaze even sharper, wedging in her speech like a hook, "Of course you two share a history, and I like to believe that creates a special connection. However, there are plenty of loving families that could foster Naruto. Give a young boy such as he, the environment and support necessary."

"But I can't—"

"But you can't what Sasuke? Continue speaking like a petty child undeserving of this prestigious scholarship and I might arrange you another foster home instead."

Sasuke stares at her, drained. Lost for speech and he swallows the swelling in his throat. But that's the thing, he's not so hot for her or this place, so he never bothered to say much at all—but that never meant he was speechless. He had a lot to say, in fact. Just not now.

"Give up Naruto. For your sake, and for his," she tells him, you could see she was playing the saint now.

He doesn't even feel his fists clenching. "That's not possible."

"Well what's going on in that head of yours, then? Seriously explain to me what you really think. Because what hope is there in staying here stuck together in the Home?"

"Because if Naruto stays and waits for me, I'll come for him. And you—you won't push it then," manages Sasuke, now all his muscles tightening in anticipation.

Her bespectacled gaze flickers with softness. "I won't. Not because you asked, but as orphans here always state their opinions in refusing or accepting an offer. Understand however that having Naruto wait for you means he could lose years of a normal family life. Asking him to wait is as selfish as it is endearing."

"He won't be alone, he won't lose time. Because I'll be here every day. Until I can take him…" the word, a weighty heady word, "home."

"Well, as of now, you have _no home_ to take him to," she asserts, "And believe me, you have absolutely only yourself to take care of at this point." She pushes up her glasses. "This scholarship is your only, best chance."

The only best chance to recreate the family he lost two years ago. In salvaging their future. He _has_ to go. He's forced to leave Naruto behind. Heart's driving him mad. Scarcely has he exited out of the Director's office, before he's running. Not that he feels himself run, but he is, like something's on his tail. And he catapults through these wretched halls, through the stale air, and the gray colors of the orphanage whirl past him. He's panting while this icy hand squeezes the life out of him. The pain's indescribable, like suffocating and drowning, and that very essential ingredient for life becomes at stake. Now he's losing the primary ingredient of his life. Hair's sticking to his face, and he's sweating.

When he nearly slams through the boys' sleeping dormitory, Sasuke stops and slows as if gravitationally forced to. No one's here. Dead empty, because everyone's out doing chores. Everyone's on a schedule. And Naruto too. He can pack now and not have to face anyone. Pack and leave _tonight_. Tonight—tonight. Not tonight, he never wanted to leave…

"Damn it!" he flings the hard suit cases at the furnace from across the room.

_Badum!_

"Just damn it!" he swipes all the cute toys off his nightstand. They're all Naruto's.

_Tkap, krap!_

"Why?" Why does everyone he's ever had leave? If Itachi stayed, if Itachi's here. Sasuke's hands shake and he barely covers his clammy face, keeping one eye wide open just to see the mess he's created. Because Itachi's never coming back.

He sinks to the floor like he's trapped in quicksand. But the cold tiles, lance up the chill through his pants. So he doesn't stay on the floor too long, even when the weight of all his thoughts push down. You don't know how much he's given to stay sane, only putting the last shreds of his humanity into Naruto. Study hard for Naruto. Earn top marks for Naruto. Get it? So one fair moment, maybe Hell'd give him a break, and Sasuke can bring something decent into their lives.

But now the one pillar of his life is toppling over like a sad monument, always tipped like the Pisa, never falling or crashing—just bent, like something's off or not right. Now the pillar's crashing. What the god damned hell's he supposed to do two years without Naruto? Two years, of what? Of only visiting, but not living with. You don't know what he'll miss, like all the moments Naruto will need him, and precious moments too, all wasted because no one will be there to encourage, or enjoy them. No one as much as he.

Foster—imposter—parents, make him so god damned sick. No, they kill him. Really, he ought to tattoo his name _Uchiha _onto Naruto's cute forehead. Naruto's _his_ responsibility. Sasuke breathes shakily because this cycle's so hideous it'd turn you to stone like looking at Medusa-witch: truly hideous, and trapping cycle of displacement. For the fact is families don't want two, they want only one. Either one or neither, and that's unacceptable because he'd rather stay in the youth home together with Naruto than live in separate families.

Another burst of anger surges through his whole body, as Sasuke jolts up and makes way to his bed. He means to break something, anything, and just have a go with his fists. However, that's when he notices something. Something he should have seen from the get-go.

That is, he immediately notices twitching movements under his pillows. As if some animal's hiding underneath them. Of course, besides the sporadic jerky motions, the pillows rise and fall rhythmically and quickly.

_That idiot!_

Without another second, he rips the pillows away, tossing them to the side. And hiding underneath, is Naruto: small and lying on his back, blond hair matted over and around a concentrating expression. Sasuke feels his anger wane, you couldn't stay mad against an expression like Naruto's, and he's softening like a snowflake making contact with the warm surface. For Naruto this spying, hiding game's like a mission of intensity and adventure—Naruto doesn't understand anything he's listening or witnessing, only eavesdropping for the thrill of being caught.

Naruto blinks up at him, still curled into position. "Awh! You found me!"

"And what if I didn't?"

Wordlessly, Naruto rolls around on the bed, taking up Sasuke's scent. Until finally two round, enlarged blue eyes—ever optimistic—raises up and he asks, "Hey S'uke, why did you—why'd you throw everything?"

Instead of answering, Sasuke shakes his head and goes to pick up the said thrown objects. As soon as he starts, Naruto's by his side helping him. They together pick up all the little action figurines, and lay it back atop the nightstand. Naruto brags about how he's collected more, and grins. Without even looking at the other head-on, Sasuke feels the light of the smile reaching his peripherals. Dreadful silence grips Sasuke by the heart. Naruto's golden smile, eyes bright with innocence, and cherubic face.

_I'm leaving him_…

He floats over to his suit case. Opens the luggage and puts it on the bed. Minutes go by when he folds all his clothes, setting them neatly for eventual transport.

_I'll be the brother that abandons him…the brother that he hates…_

Confusion strikes Naruto at once. "What're you doing, Sas'kay?"

"Packing," he answers flatly.

"Why?"

Sasuke pulls out his bottom drawer. "I'm leaving, that's why."

"Why?"

Ignoring the inquiry, Sasuke loads his clothes into the suitcase. By now Naruto's hit the age of questioning, _incessantly_. And at this point, he's accustomed to the endless string of whys because they never end and there's no point in encouraging it.

"Where are you going?" begs Naruto, from behind, "_Oi_! Can I come? Please?"

Sasuke keeps himself turned away, practically leaning forward onto his dresser. For a brief second, some wetness smudges his eyes, and he rubs it quickly. He opens his last top drawer, gets ahold of as much as he can carry, before turning back to his open luggage on the bed.

And Naruto's sitting crouched in his luggage, pleading. "Please can I come? Pack me too!"

"Naruto," Sasuke breathes out, nearly dropping everything he's holding.

"Can be another mission. I'll hide in here. I promise to be quiet. Promise!" Naruto flexes his knees to his chest, and practically shakes as he snickers. "Ne, ne, when you open it, I'll pop out. Scare _everyone_!"

Before he can even think, Sasuke's voice works on its own, "No. Get up."

"But, but…"

"Now, Naruto. I don't have time."

Begrudgingly, Naruto wiggles out of the suitcase and sits right _next_ to it. Indian style. Legs crossed, arms crossed, and nose wrinkling in defiance. So when Sasuke moves in to load his clothes, Naruto plays the role of supervisor—watches every move, leaning over at every interval. Until finally Sasuke snaps the luggage shut, and the metallic hinges make a sound that reverberates in the empty dormitory. The sound shocks Naruto, who jumps off the bed in that moment.

"I'm…I'm not coming?" chokes out Naruto, panic evident in his shaky voice.

At once, Sasuke looks down at the boy who scarcely reaches up to his thighs. "You have to stay."

"Why?" Naruto claws at the hems of his shirt. "_No_. No why do I have to stay?"

The tight fists Naruto makes over his pants, causes Sasuke to grimace. "I can't take you with me. They won't let me. Do you get it?"

"Then just pack me too! No one will notice—"

"They'll notice. They'll notice right away." And now he's feeling Naruto seize him wholly, embracing him by the knees. Sasuke swallows so he can speak firmly, "I'm not really leaving because you'll see me every day. Things won't change. I promise."

For a long moment they stay still since Naruto doesn't want to let go. Instead he buries his flushed, cherubic face deeper into the grooves of Sasuke's legs. Naruto mumbles something incoherent because his high-pitched voice gets muffled. Until, that is, he peels his face and snaps an open gaze up. Blue eyes wavering against Sasuke's steady ones.

"But _why_ do you have to go?" he entreats, voice reaching a sharp crescendo of pain and confusion.

That's when Sasuke kneels down and grips both of Naruto's shoulders. A gesture which slows time, and blurs the rest of the world around them.

_I'm not like Itachi. Leaving, but never coming back._

"For a mission," he says, to which Naruto's eyes brighten in excitement, "I'm going on a mission and I have to survive several trials. The prize at the end is that I get to take you with me to a nice place."

"Trials? What are those?"

"Tests. When I pass the tests, I win."

Determination passes over Naruto, and blond brows furrow. "Tch! I know you'll win, because you're the best. No one can beat you—wait—except for me!"

"But you have to wait for me," Sasuke threads in silkily because a deep part of him really believes that no one should have Naruto. A deep part of him claws from within and between his ribs, that this is only a sacrifice in the short-term. The Director has no idea, therefore she's both right and wrong.

"Okay. When's the mission gonna be over?"

Two years now felt two hundred, especially at the tip of his tongue. "Soon. Just promise me, you'll wait."

"I promise!" says Naruto, and he stomps his feet before snickering. "I only want you."

"Good."

And he doesn't ask Naruto why he's sneaking out of chores, because he knows already why. And he doesn't say much more because enough's been said. And he doesn't want to make this more of a big deal than it is. Infinite ands. In the end, Sasuke promises he'll be here everyday—and everyday he'll be here, with Naruto. Nothing will change, much.

Sasuke moves to kiss his brother's forehead. However in that instant Naruto tilts up and connects their lips. Naruto gets on his toes, screwing his eyes shut, in concentration or in joy—and Sasuke doesn't even blink. He's a wall while Naruto pecks him on the mouth. Shame fills him up, for letting the infantile habit persist, and now for certain Naruto's old enough to know better. Especially because the connection lingers on his mouth as some dessert, and he scowls.

When the inappropriate contact breaks, Sasuke coldly says, "Don't do that anymore."

Hurt flashes in the wide expression. Almost, Sasuke regrets. Because the intimate, yet chaste gesture reflects how mother used to show them affection, and perhaps the only vestiges of their old family life Naruto remembers. And for this very reason, Sasuke's tolerated Naruto's undying habits—even enjoys its warmth. But no one else would understand. Besides Naruto isn't some toddler anymore, and on the outside, it surely looks inappropriate.

The taxi arrives at the break of dusk. Five o'clock. The Director personally sees him off, congratulating him endlessly. While the whole time, Naruto stands next to her, bangs overcasting a shadow, but you can see him frowning dreadfully. They're all outside several paces away from the front of the Youth Home.

While still holding his baggage, Sasuke calls out, "Naruto. Come here."

Like a jolt of energy, Naruto shoots forward, and nearly knocks him out of balance. "I don't want you to go. Why do you have to go? Why can't we do the mission together like always?" he rambles out all the pent up feelings, hugging Sasuke's knees again.

"Do you trust me?" demands Sasuke, as stern and rugged as his voice can drop. He needs Naruto to believe him.

In that moment, he feels Naruto nod against him with such vigor. "Yeah. I…I just don't want you to go without me. I want to be on a mission too, with you…"

With his free hand, Sasuke strokes his kid brother's back.

"Listen." Their eyes meet in understanding. Naruto always knows when he's serious and when he's not. "When this mission is over, we will never have to worry about being separated. Ever again."

If only he could say the words, and they'd come true. No, things never work that way with him. Never again will life be simple. And time never slowed, time just blurred like he's being rocketed through space. Like the bus he gets into, with his luggage on his lap, he stares out the window. He watches the surroundings fade away, be replaced with new surroundings. Never-ending cycles of unseen territory. If Naruto'd be sitting next him, then the ride would be remotely pleasurable, asking all sorts of questions, wearing adorable naiveté like a gown at a ball.

Only takes a glance at the empty seat beside him, to confirm his loneliness. At that, life drains from him as vampires might have been feeding off him dry. Pale, weakening, uncomfortably numb, because he has to force himself to breathe. To actually think to breathe because a brick's not letting his body free. How is he going to really continue?

The bus stops a couple blocks from his University's dormitory. Drops him off in a town so different from his whole life, he's questioning if he's in another country. And in the moment he steps out, he freezes. The city air smacks him, like a hand to his face, waking him up from a dream.

This is his first time in the city. Alone. Sasuke gets the map from his pocket to confirm further directions. What would Itachi say? That the city's different, another culture, another kind of attitude. And while Itachi's excellent in both settings, he's not. He's not.

Carrying his luggage, Sasuke traverses several blocks. He's surprised at how many people are flocking the streets at this hour, and the bright lights, and the sheer luminosity of the dark sky overhead from the collective wakeness of the town. No stars. No lines and lines of trees and hills. But street lamps, and posts, and concrete filled the whole of his vision, swamping him down with unwanted excitement.

This place could actually…do him well.

The moment Sasuke finds his room in the dormitory, after getting the elevator five floors up, trudging through the head dean…was surreal.

He walks into his room, unsure. Very unsure, expecting to wake up again any second. Sasuke glances appraisingly at every corner of the dark space—much smaller than he imagined, but completely moderate. Setting down his suitcase and bag, he moves in and shuts the door behind. He's about to turn round and survey his new place of living until a voice cuts in.

"Hey, listen my roommate just came in. I'll call you back."

Darting out of what appears to be the bathroom, a peer of similar height and defined jaw, smirks at him. "Sasuke right?"

"Right."

"Name's Shikamaru," volleys back the other, lifting his chin up in consideration.

Sasuke has no appetite for small talk or big talk. But it seems Shikamaru hasn't the appetite either, when he drawls, "Alright Sasuke, I drew up a contract here. These are the terms I want to negotiate. Read it over, okay? Circle anything questionable and write in modifications, and then we'll talk."

The moment Sasuke bothers to peruse the long sheet paper, is the moment he almost rolls his eyes. Bathroom times, who's to shower first, who's to use the toilet: and the designated times for morning showers and evening showers. A paragraph summarizes the order of bringing guests over at certain times, which couldn't be any time except for Friday nights, and details expunging the use of marijuana, cigarettes, and alcohol in the room. Then shifting to lighter notes again, the contract lists laundry rules, mess intolerance, cleaning schedules, and a highlighted clause about bringing women over. Sasuke's about to toss the paper into the trash, when he realizes how perfect the very idea of a contract was.

Just like Shikamaru, Sasuke wants to avoid the intersection of their space as much as possible. And since Shikamaru's against guests, girls, mess, drugs, and infringement of privacy. So he signs it. No modifications needed because he feels exactly the same as Shikamaru.

He wants to be left alone.

Surprised at the nonchalance, Shikamaru momentarily falters. "Hm, just like that huh? Looks like for once, I'm paired with someone decent."

Without a word, or glance, Sasuke moves for his room. He sees which bedroom's his: the empty one. The one without any shred of life in it. And when his back connects with the hard mattress, he glares unto the ceiling before falling asleep.


	2. Sleeping

Beta: GoodMorningFlower

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><p><em>The contact, their breaths and touch, their connection takes him places he can't control—them holding each other, grappling and latching—is an indescribable portal.<em>

**...**

**Chapter Two**

**Sleeping**

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You know with some things, reading about it sure wouldn't make you more practiced. But college? He swears he almost read a damned instruction manual because the first year of University life passes expectedly. You should have seen it. Took a test or two with eyes closed; slept through half an exam, he swears.

But there's some more good news. He's seventeen now, and he's grown a couple inches. Not sure how many, but the kind you wouldn't notice until a long time's passed before giving a one over. Big deal. Maybe he'll be taller than Itachi by the time he sees Naruto again. Bigger deal.

Looks in the mirror once every few days, with cold water dripping over him like shards of broken ice melting, chilling his skin. But you should see this mirror. This squared, grey mirror with cracks on the frame—you'd think he pawned it off from a prison cell, though the gorgeous shit hangs over his bathroom sink. So every now and then he sees his own image staring back. His own image, blinking slowly, boxed in by this awful, damned frame and he's forced to face this withering portrait. Forgets it's him he's looking at too.

That's one thing that kills him though. Mirrors. You couldn't trust them.

In the evenings, he gets on a bus. And the ride to the Youth Home; he can't describe it. Never changes, though: how when the grey around him fades, and is replaced by a whirlwind of orange, red, and blue and everything beneath the setting sky wavers with feeling. Every dusk with Naruto—he's finally breathing again. And he twitches at the pins and needles prickling from underneath his own skin, as if he's just waking up, and he's been comatose all other times.

You'd think how he can get the energy to leave every night; how he's got the drive to leave after Naruto's fast asleep in bed—because leaving over and over again is…destroying him.

One night, Sasuke doesn't leave. He falls asleep squeezing Naruto into him, with his little brother squirming at the pressure. He's supposed to be back at the dorms by now. He's supposed to get ready for tomorrow's classes. Supposed to be responsible and perfect and meet his dormitory's curfew. Yet, together with his brother they lay; and no matter how close they are, Sasuke needs them closer. He has no one worrying for him anyway, no Itachi or Mother to call, no father to inform of him being late, and Shikamaru's probably reveling in the luxury of privacy.

He winces when Naruto shuffles in his grip, saying, "S'uke can you tell me 'bout your day?"

"My day," he echoes.

"Yeah. I wanna know. You never talked."

He squeezes tighter despite the whines and complaints. Because today had been nothing short of a nightmare. He failed his first midterm, and failed his first internship interview.

Screwing his eyes shut, Sasuke swallows the dreadful details down. He won't ever let Naruto know he failed terribly. Naruto just wouldn't get it, wouldn't get the difference between losing a god damned card game and losing the opportunity of a lifetime. And because what happened, was a sheer mistake. What happened was, and will never be, thought or conceived or recalled again—

Won't tell how _seeds rotted in the soil_, finally blooming into wretched, toxic plants this morning, the details which he fights so hard to shun, but couldn't; opens him up like an evisceration, and he grimaces.

Naruto gives him a funny eye. "You have a tummy ache, S'uke?"

"No."

Not like he ate anything unsanitary or too terrible. Maybe though because he just didn't eat. Not when swallowing was just as difficult as chewing, and all you felt was spitting things out. He still felt nauseated actually.

"But you look sick. You're makin' sounds like you're hurting real bad."

"It's nothing," he lies. But really you should have seen Naruto, like you told the kid the sky was falling, or something completely unbelievable.

Sasuke was all curled in, clutching at his abdomen like he's wounded. But he's not, though. You'd think he's clutching at his gut to keep the blood from spattering. But he's not really shot or injured. He's just remembering, is all.

Remembering all the rejections, and this morning when on his visit here to his brother, Sasuke imagined putting himself in front of the bus. The railroad, the top floor of his University, the cars zooming on the crosswalks. Images of him ending everything flitted all too quickly and all too often, in one short time—enough to have driven him into the middle of the street.

_Red hand flashing_, saying not to cross as cars roar to life and barreled down the road. And he's imagined ending it here.

What about the promises he made? The promises. To Itachi, to his mother, those god damned promises. To Naruto. Even that's not enough to stop him. This walk off the plank, driven by the unseen hands of his dead family. Sasuke stepped forward and dropped his bag. Plopped to the ground, like it was saying goodbye in punctuation. No more school, work, and no more failures. Didn't hear the questioning voices of people as he left the safety of the sidewalk and crosses into a speeding road. Silence plugged him from the inside out, so that the honking and the blaring falls on deaf ears. He's almost there.

Until someone snatched him from behind, like a whip chain, yanking him back, "_Stop_!"

Shattered. The grey, hideous mirror clatters to pieces. Each glass piece a distortion of his reflection and his vision's swimming, as he fell back.

The shout and the terrible noise of the car veering violently off the road, pierced his trance like rocks to glass.

And that's how the spell broke. Sasuke panted as he woke up. Sleep-walking in the city, he couldn't breathe, god damn it! Doubled over for the breaths he'd held. Saw where he truly was—not in the nightmare of soaring from the rooftops into blackness—but on the concrete pavement. Smelled like dog shit too. People crowding around him. Skyscrapers looming over him, haughtily gazing down with their pointy gables and antennas. He's leaning over by a fire hydrant, and it's rusted. The city smell hit him harder than he hit the pavement.

How did he get here? He couldn't remember. Panicking, Sasuke groped himself to see if he'd been mutilated. Cut apart by time, again. Until that is, the most assuring baritone reached his senses as if some melody of forbearance, something you'd hear at a sanctuary or a priest's tone when they absolved you of sin.

"You're just a student," remarked his savior. Grey hair, long face, eyes laden with age, but the man was nice. "You're young, you have the whole future ahead of you."

With difficulty, Sasuke straightened up. Shame plummeted into his gut like bricks, because he woke up to the worst reality—in which he'd left Naruto behind. His heart hammered with adrenaline and he felt dizzy. Dizzy with the thought he'd almost left the entire burden tenfold on his kid brother.

Sasuke met the solid gaze of the man, who's squeezing his shoulder. But this man's smile really energized him, it was a sincere smile he hasn't seen in ages like one of those rare lunar eclipses. A sight worth to see, really.

"Thank you," Sasuke told him, and he meant it.

The man's like fluid, radiating Zen and never flinching. "You should sleep and eat healthier. Take care of yourself, otherwise…" trailed off the smooth voice, letting go of him, "you won't need that car to finish the job."

_Naruto_…_I broke our promise_…

That's why that night, that horrid day, he doesn't answer Naruto's question. And when he's holding his brother, squeezing tighter than usual, Naruto complains, "_S'_uke, I can't breathe!"

_I won't again_…

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><p>Not even a week since then, Sasuke helps his favorite kindergarten graduate with homework for the first time. Actual homework. First grade subjects such as months, years, spelling, reading, writing…<p>

When they spell out months together, and he shows Naruto how to spell July in hiragana, Naruto gets too excited and shoves him aside. "I know, I know! Ne, let me do it! Let me show you."

"You scored a fifty on your last spelling test," retorts Sasuke, handing over the pen, "all because you'd rather show off than listen."

Naruto stumbles back as if shot. Dewy, misty blue eyes like roses of the sea bloom under the lamp's light—and Sasuke relaxes in his seat. His gaze roams over Naruto's little hoodie with the spiral decorating dead center of the puffy sweater, then to the little pout overtaking the cherubic face. You have to work real hard to school Sasuke's impassive look, it wasn't easy not melting into a useless puddle of an older brother. Not with Naruto.

"Oi! But I do really know," grates out Naruto, wiggling then very close. He wraps small hand over Sasuke's, and fights for the pen, "just watch, I can spell July in both forms."

Scoffing, Sasuke leans back, handing the reigns over to his eight-year-old brother. He expects a dreadful imitation of the right characters for July because Naruto's handwriting's atrocious, but to top that, spelling's even worse.

"There! Look," points Naruto, waving the pen as emphasis.

"So you know only one month out of twelve."

"The most important one ever!"

Sasuke freezes. _July_. The characters compactly weave together. Every end of July, his family held their fire festival, Naruto'd draw him stupid cartoons for his birthday, and Itachi'd take them exploring. Here he is, reading the chapter of his best years, in one word. He wishes wherever Itachi was, he'd see these little conversations, and see how worthwhile their past has been. It's a stupid, impossible wish, Sasuke can't help but feel it fleetingly seep and leave his thoughts.

Itachi left him. Left _them_.

Finally he looks back into the grinning expression. Sasuke pets Naruto encouragingly, "Then let's make every month the most important," he says, "So you can at least spell them correctly, dummy."

"No but the most, most importantest one is this one," insists Naruto, putting his arms far apart to emphasize.

_"Uchiha-kun._" Not Naruto's voice. A woman's.

Sasuke gets up from the table, causing the little blond on his lap to scramble off. "You need to practice," he says lowly.

"But, but—hold on!" Naruto panics, because he thinks he's said something hurtful. "You're going a'ready? Why?"

"Calm down, will you? I'm coming back," he assures.

"But, but…you promised to stay till I went asleep!"

Torn for the moment, Sasuke stands transfixed. He's not sure why he's leaving now. He heard someone call him, but he must have been hearing things. Looking at his watch, he could stay for another hour or so at least. However, in his momentary hesitation, Naruto mounts the chair and equals their heights as much as possible.

Scarcely reaching Sasuke's collar bone, Naruto demands in a growl, and a mediocre one at that. Like a baby lion with strep throat.

"You said—_you promised_—you were gonna stay, that's what you said!" stomping one foot for persuasion. It was excellent punctuation, really.

The angry puffs of air blow at him. Invitingly warm as Sasuke reaches up naturally and strokes the ruffled blond hair. Caresses the distended cheeks, and leans forward. His perfect innocent, kid brother.

"You're right."

"_Eh_?"

"I want to make sure you sleep well," murmurs Sasuke, letting their foreheads touch. He watches Naruto's blue eyes like it's the sky and he sees himself reflecting off the irises this close up. These were really the only mirrors you could trust. "So I won't go."

Being this close, is something they're both used to. It's the gentle tone that has Naruto flushing madly. "Um, um. 'M not tired yet, I might stay up all night long…"

"Naruto," he breathes, "Don't start."

Naruto bites back a snicker, literally bites back. Sasuke kisses the exposed canines, causing his kid brother to have a giggling fit. So he kisses the chapped lips, trapping that beautiful laughter and letting it warm his whole system like steam.

"I'll stay up forever and then you can never leave," gets out Naruto between their mouths.

Even though it was said half-heartedly, Sasuke's heart clenches. He lowers himself further, buries his nose into Naruto's neck. Stays there as he feels Naruto's arms holding him. He wants Naruto to stay this way. Wants Naruto to be this small, this optimistic, this innocent forever. He won't let his brother go through what he's had to go through, won't let his brother fall over the edge, into the despair of adulthood. When he listens to Naruto's high-pitched voice play in his ears, he hears himself talking to Itachi—and he'd do anything to go back to that time.

_"Uchiha-kun!_" the woman's voice nags on louder than a whisper. _"Are you okay? U-Uchiha-kun..."_

Sasuke ends up pressing his wet mouth onto the burningly hot groove of Naruto's neck, and getting carried away, leaves a slick trail back to the burning round cheeks. The whole time, Naruto vibrates in guffaws as if he's getting tickled torturously.

"_Uchiha-kun, wake up please, she's looking at you._"

.

.

.

.

Snapping his head up from the cold desk, Sasuke opens his eyes. The woman's voice nagging in his head belongs to a modest girl sitting beside him…in the lecture hall. He's in class. In organic chemistry class with—

"Professor Haruno's been looking at you," she whispers frantically, and apologetically, "and I—I thought maybe you'd appreciate it if someone woke you up, before she gets annoyed."

Without saying anything, he nods wearily. He notices how his sudden waking up yanks the attention of several students sitting in the periphery. Immediately sensing this, Sasuke steels himself from the penetrating stares because he's momentarily slipped. Torn from the waking realm and ripped into the tangents of his kid brother, again. This happens in the middle of conversations, during work and his commutes, even while taking exams, and especially during lectures—hears and sees his brother always distracting him.

Sitting in the rearmost row, Sasuke rubs his temples. He can feel Professor Haruno's glaring, like she's shining two emerald rays at him. In fact, he whooshes a breath of frustration, because she's always upset or mad about something—always dissatisfied, with him, isn't she?

"Anyone? Does anyone care to answer the question?" Haruno, well Dr. Haruno rather, paces up and down in front of a large bright screen. "No one? How about you, Uchiha-kun. Good morning, by the way. Perhaps the answer came into your dream, and you'd like to share."

She's not asking. Sakura Haruno never asks. She demands, and in her heels today, she taps her foot impatiently, burning with a desire…manifesting in her coy smirk.

Some kids sitting up front snicker, slinging entertained glances his way. They're the same losers who have a fetish for taking pictures of sleeping students in the library, and Sasuke knows, because he's been victimized by it. Not that he cares.

Narrowing his eyes, Sasuke darts a focused look at the professor. His heart's still hammering from waking up, pounding in his own throat.

"Which problem?" he gets out, over the violent cardiac melody drumming from within.

The snickering explodes into ill suppressed laughter. Professor Haruno crosses her arms, pushing her glasses up. "What are you three laughing at?" she snaps, turning to the goon squad occupying the first row, "I'd like to see you all score perfectly on my next exam, like Uchiha has. Maybe then you'd earn the privilege of sleeping in my class!"

They instantly quit laughing, and he could see from all the way back here, their bodies stiffening into ridiculed masses of flesh.

Haruno goes on with the lesson, though her voice's tinged with unfinished business. Which he'll probably hear more of when he has to clock into her lab later—because she's his supervisor too, his dreadful boss. Whatever wasn't settled today, will be settled tomorrow. And she's annoyed with him, as much as he's annoyed with her—her constant pushy demands, her constant need of his full attention—when he gives her his best, she wants more. Nothing he does seems to quench the thirst in her eyes, and this reminds him of someone. He can't think of who, but he feels familiar with her thirst, like he's read it somewhere, or seen it somewhere. Just familiar.

That's when the Youth Home calls him.

Buzzing, like a cicada in summer, his phone goes off clamoring in his pocket.

One glance at the ID, and he's almost rushing out into the halls. They never call him. In fact, Sasuke holds his breath as he darts through a row of seats, not caring if he's stepped on someone's bag or feet. Professor Haruno lectures on despite his hasty, sharp exit: but she sends him a curious glance even so far as frowning. But he doesn't feed into the momentary connection she's trying to build, not when his heart pounds to the vibrations of his phone.

This is the first time they're calling him. It's always the other way around.

Frantically quivering in his hand, he finally answers his cell. "Hello?" he says, as the white fluorescent lights blind his eyes.

"_Sasuke_," answers a familiar voice, laced with steel strings. "_This is the Director speaking. I have some news, regarding Naruto_."

"What, what news?"

"_In front of me I have a signed, and completed form for Naruto's new foster home_," she says crisply, finally fragmenting into sympathetic pauses, "_You asked for me to call if something should come up. Well, this seems the real deal. This person's passed all background checks. And he wants to take Naruto home_."

"When."

"_This afternoon. To a Mizuki—"_

Sasuke's hand tightens, almost enough force to crush the phone. "I'll be there."

When he hangs up, a moment of stillness overtakes him. Absolute transfixation, as the information sinks in. Naruto can't choose whether or not to be in foster care; not when the Youth Home's overcrowding dilemma adds pressure: and even though he's given Naruto a cell, hardly does he ever receive a call. But why wouldn't Naruto call him at least about this? When he'd promised to call whenever and if ever something's to happen?

Before he knows it, he's storming down the stairs and waiting for the bus. He'd take a cab, but he's low on dough.

And screw class. Professor Haruno didn't take attendance even, so he's technically marked absent. But the real god damn punch line here is, he was absent anyway, his mind wasn't in that room any more his body's not. What's important anyway is seeing Naruto before some stranger steals his kid brother away. His. No one else's. No phony foster family could reproduce their bond.

The bus arrives, stopping his panic. Pulls over long and nice like a shuttle, pristine, and white smeared with blue—the same bus, and probably the same damned driver too. Yet the ride instead of relaxing like it always does every evening, transforms into a grueling trip over the Styx. He's thinking how to stop this foster family from kidnapping Naruto.

Because in all the movies he's seen with Shikamaru, the hero always comes up with some intense rescue plan. So every second, minute by minute, his mind's blank like a neglected wall, and he hates himself more. There's no plan. Unless you considered running away with Naruto a plan, but that's not the glorious kind in movies.

Sasuke's nails digs into his palms. He asks the bus driver, what she'd do in his shoes.

She seems sore as hell about it. "Are you kidding me?" she asks, you could tell she wants to be left alone.

"I mean to say," Sasuke explains, some hope in his throat, "would there be a loophole you'd find? Maybe say the right kinds of things. There's always the perfect words to say in a given situation, isn't there?"

"What?" she says again. And he hates these people, the ones always needing you to repeat the same thing over and over again.

The AC from above blows down on his perspired temples, sickening him. Anyway he still asks confidently, "The perfect words. You believe in that? If you wanted to stop someone from leaving, would there be anything to say that'd stop them?"

Now if she was sore before, she's bleeding with rage. "I'm driving, can't you see that? Get back behind the line, kid."

He didn't even know he crossed a line to begin with. He steps back.

"You're terrific, a great bus driver, one of the best," he deadpans, "Get all the concentration you need."

She then smiles, wagging her brows at him. He almost tells her she drives him crazy, with how stupid she is. But it's his stop.

Finally getting to the Youth Home, Sasuke makes his way to the boys' dormitory, and finds Naruto's back facing him, packing away. At the glimpse of blond hair, Sasuke freezes completely. Watches the small, lithe frame of his brother, crouching by the bed they used to share, stowing away all the toys, all his clothes into an orange bag.

This time, Naruto's leaving.

The greatest pain he's ever felt since Itachi left him, now strikes him completely weak.

"Naruto..." he calls out.

Jolting, Naruto turns. "'S'uke you—you're here."

"Why didn't you call me, dummy?" he says, but not before he feels his brother pound into him. "Oi," he huffs at the impact, annoyed.

Naruto hugs him tightly, voice muffling, "Didn't wanna bother your mission. 'Cause you always come around bed time," comes the excited chirps, "ne, ne you're coming too right?"

Glaring down into hopeful orbs, made him more depressed. "No, I'm not coming. You'll be in another home, and I'll," suddenly a lump bulges in his throat, and he swallows, "…we'll be lucky if I can still see you."

"Why?" pleads Naruto, sounding confused, "Why won't I see you?"

"Because strangers usually don't trust other strangers, simple. Strangers don't care about other strangers. And we're strangers to them."

At the explanation, Naruto lets go but stays in place. You could tell a real argument's about to start.

"That's not true. You said a stranger helped you go on the mission. That's what you said."

"Don't take what I say and use it against me, Naruto. You going back to foster care is not good for us," he drawls, before crouching down. "And I have some important things to say to you."

And now that they're on eye level, Naruto smiles crookedly. However upon seeing the serious expression on his older brother, the smile collapses into a frown, burning with innocence, "What things, tell me!"

"No, I'm going to teach you some things, and you have to show me you understand."

Naruto furrows his brows. "Okay! Tell me, tell me. I bet it's something cool!"

In that moment, Sasuke reaches into his pocket and unsheathes his phone. Albeit the cellular is the oldest generation, it's fully functional, and he opens it since it does fold in on itself. When he shares the view, Naruto leans on him with piqued interest. What's more is he feels Naruto's shallow breaths puff over him, telling him just how intrigued his kid brother is. And the delicate pressing of Naruto's small hands against his shoulder, light pressure signaling him just how unconsciously Naruto depends on him.

"Oh I have one too. You gave me it to play games on." Naruto's always quick to announce what he has and what he's done. "But I beat all the games and I got bored."

Grabbing Naruto's wrist for punctuation, Sasuke sharply retorts, "I gave you this for you to call me, not for games. And now I want you to learn how to send me messages."

"Like letters? Or drawings."

"Letters. Do you not see the keyboard? Dobe."

Naruto growls and rips away. "I know! I _know_ how to do that! Jerk!"

And now Naruto's whirled away from him in full pout mode and Sasuke feels his patience wear thin. Because all the pressure. The pressure of a whole ocean bearing down on him, of losing Naruto, losing his family again, all happening in this fleeting moment. And while he's trying to crunch the essence of their time together, for Naruto to act so childishly...Naruto must not understand.

"Get over here now," he commands, leaving not a cadence of question.

"_No_."

"I said get over here!"

"_No_, I don't wanna write no letters!"

Sasuke inwardly cringes at the remark. "You don't want to write to me?" he says slowly as if the words are hard to believe. "You won't miss me?"

Seeing Naruto shiver to a stop, he adds, "I won't accept that, Naruto. You will write to me because I want you to write to me. I want to have something from you everyday. I need it, because I need you."

Like lightning, Naruto pounds back into him, hits him straight like a thrown sack. Sasuke grunts at the sudden force, but his arms move on their own accord. No one's around. Just them. And as his eyes drift shut for a moments, he returns Naruto's embrace. For a kid, though, Naruto could squeeze the blood circulating out of his legs like a damned vice grip of a machine: so unbelievably perfect. He feels Naruto's hands clutch a ball of his pants in each hand, and a warm face nuzzling into him.

Until he feels a wetness soak through his pants. Sasuke snaps his eyes open.

Now, Naruto's trembling and gripping tighter. "You really...you really..." the muffled voice chokes off into another bout of shaking.

"Speak clearly," Sasuke demands, but inside his heart's racing. Naruto hardly...cries.

Each tear is a rare jewel, flowing and pooling in the corners of wide blue orbs.

"What you said. Y-you mean that. I'm happy." Naruto grins despite the gleaming unshed tears. However in the next moment, he quickly rubs the wetness away as if it was all an accident. "Gross. Someone's makin' onions in here," jokes Naruto, looking off to the side.

Sasuke stares in fascination. Unable to say a word, unable to move, or caress. All he feels is Naruto clinging onto him, and they're not in the Youth Home anymore. They're on soft ground, under a blaring spotlight, and pleasant warm air. The contact, their breaths and touch, their connection takes him places he can't control—them holding each other, grappling and latching—is an indescribable portal. Like astral projection, soaring when they run together hand in hand. And when small fists pound into him in a tantrum, they're trudging through the swamps, unable to overcome the quicksand of their differences. Or completely ship-wrecking, when he feels Naruto's wet tears through his pants, he's drowning.

All of this swoops over him, and he could do nothing but stare in fascination at how weak he was to this seven-year-old.

Naruto wipes his nose along the sleeves of an orange tee. "But I…I need you too, S'uke," comes the mumble.

"Good," he breathes, finally breaking out of his stupor.

Blond wild fringes stickily cast a shadow which is soon illuminated by a brightening smile. The signature smile. Naruto the forever cock-eyed optimist, crying only when some unbearable goodness weighs down, always looking for a reason to believe or to hope.

Unconsciously, Sasuke tightens his fists. "One more year, Naruto," he says lowly, "then you're mine."

That's when Naruto yanks him down with shocking force, drawing their faces to just centimeters apart. On his tip-toes, he bends Sasuke to his level like a tall tree branch, to pick the fruits—Sasuke's cold lips. And numb to the feeling as if the contact's air on skin, he doesn't flinch, he's stiff like a wall. Not fluid, like he melts in his dreams, pressing back with an unbounded affection; not reciprocating in the way he needs to. In fact he simply lets his brother chastely kiss him on the mouth, as he always does with this habit from infanthood that's never disappeared, only solidified.

As quickly as it came, Naruto pulls away, hops back, and grins.

However the kiss leaves a lingering taste on Sasuke's mouth, something indescribable. Warm yet familiar. A scent in the wind and he glances around to see if anyone's around, sharing this moment, stealing their intimacy. Yet they're still alone. He looks back to his brother and faces Naruto's classic cock-eyed expression: a squinting blue eye, while the other trembles in determination.

_He's testing how I'd react_. After a long moment of them staring, a long moment of considering, Sasuke scoffs, tilts away, hiding his smile just in time.

"What?!" demands Naruto angrily, brows knitting together.

Glancing furtively to catch the indignant expression blazing behind him, Sasuke pushes his hair back. "Nothing."

"Liar, liar, _liar_!" comes the visceral accusation, "I saw that look! Just tell me!"

"Come here."

That is, when he invites Naruto onto his lap, he's almost knocked backwards by the blond bullet shooting at him.

"Okay so you tell me. Huh? What is it?"

This time Naruto's good, carefully listens to him. Finally the tension smoothes out, and Sasuke masterfully places Naruto on his knee while sitting on their former bed. He teaches the whole business of e-mailing, text messaging, even setting up accounts and passwords, keeping Naruto closely wound on his lap.

"If you ever lose this phone, you get on a computer anywhere and..."

"But, but! I don't know 'bout computers," cries Naruto, eyes wide and voice pitching up, "Can't we just talk regular-like?"

"Getting on your e-mail is exactly the same whether on a phone or computer. Same website, same buttons, same everything, understand?"

Stubborn, hard shakes of a blond head, reminds him of a ruffled puppy. "I don't care! Because I don't want no computers—" Of course seeing Sasuke's ill threatening expression, Naruto chokes off, and laughs nervously and smacks Sasuke's shoulder. "I'm kidding! Ne, ne, I always trick you. I can do this. I can do anything…but I…"

A moment of silence tethers them together. Until Naruto raises his head, his pink lips quirking in a grin, "I just…I just want you. Is that bad?"

"We'll find our way, but this is back up. In case I can't see you."

"I'll run away if I can't see you."

"Don't."

"I'll spit in their faces and then run away—"

Adrenaline saps out of his veins, too quickly. He's draining of energy all too quickly. Scarcely can Sasuke keep his own against Naruto's buzzing energy. He collapses. Unfolds slowly as much as he fights to stay straight. Ends up flattening on the bed. He can't anymore; the rollercoaster ride's finally stopped. Naruto follows him to his downfall, and sprawls over him, and he feels his little brother's thin legs and arms wind around his own. He melts into the mattress, with Naruto straddling him.

"I'll draw on all their walls of how they're stupid. Stupid if they think we can't see each other," rants Naruto, mounted atop him.

Sasuke looks up with half hooded eyes. Sometimes Naruto becomes quite the motivational speaker.

"While they sleep I'll draw on their faces. I'll put bad stuff in their shampoos, put traps around their house—"

"Enough…Naruto…"

Huffing, his little brother crosses his arms. "You don't believe me? I will. I'll show everyone how bad I am. They'll be sorry for taking me away, they'll be even sorrier for separating us."

Sasuke turns his head off to the side, away from the star radiating so intensely. But Naruto leans over, laying atop him, and bumps their foreheads. So Sasuke turns back, and lets himself be exposed. Now his little brother can read him like an open transcript—and this time, Sasuke's too tired…too filled up with the hedonistic want of holding, of embracing, of warmth to care. What he held back before is seeping through, like a brimming tub of water.

"I love you S'uke," murmurs Naruto.

Instinctively, he tilts up. Recaptures the sweet taste lingering from before. And at the pressing of their lips Naruto jostles back in a fit of laughter. Sasuke fights the urge to smash them together in another embrace. But he'd interrupt the laughter, and he listens to the giggles popping the air like fireworks. Explosive, divine, enthralling. He'd trade everything to hear this melody, over and over again, so sweet enough like the mornings when the birds chirp in spring.

"S'uke, can I sleep with you?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," he whispers tiredly.

Naruto buries into him. "Don't wanna go."

Asleep. He falls asleep. Dreams that he and Naruto talked for longer. Dreams that they're home again, with mom, father, and…Itachi. Sasuke's jaw slackens as he falls deeper into slumber. Slips into the bliss of the past, and Naruto's warmth guides him. Lids are as heavy as bricks, Sasuke can't flutter them open, even as Naruto shakes him.

"Sas'kay! Wake up!"

His head lolls before he looks up into the begging eyes of his brother. "What, Naruto?" he whispers, half-unconscious.

"You fell asleep before I did," comes the complaint.

Sasuke jerks up suddenly. "How long?" he grates out, fumbling for the time.

"H-hey not fair S'uke. You went somewhere nice, didn't you? And I'm left out!" cries out Naruto, "If I fall asleep first, then it's okay."

"Naruto, what are you talking about? Get off me."

Takes a ten second staring contest, before Naruto grumbles and dismounts. "Y-you said we could take a nap…S'uke you said that. Heard you."

He knows for a fact he didn't say that. Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose, unfolds from the bed, and checks Naruto's bag. Asks his brother if he's packed everything: toothbrush, all his underwear, and…Kurama. He finds the nine-tailed fox tittering on the nightstand's edge much to his disdain. Why does Naruto still keep this stuffed animal? No. Don't think about this now.

"Kurama doesn't like bags," Naruto answers smartly. "So 'm gonna carry'im."

Before he can consider shoving Kurama in the bag anyway, Naruto intercepts the movement. Throws himself over the bag, yelling, "Stop! Stop it Sas'kay! Kurama doesn't like it. He wants me to hold him."

"Not a 'he'. An _it_."

"Kurama hears everything you say…" trails off the high-pitched whine.

"Enough Naruto. You're going too far."

"_No_," roars the other, "you're the one going too far!"

At that, Sasuke scowls and tries to rip Naruto away from the bag. However no matter how much force he uses—he can't tear his brother away. The defiant expression only emblazons too.

"_Jerk_! I won't let you," snaps Naruto, digging deeper into the bag. Protecting, blocking. And then glancing at the fox in a pale hand's chokehold, assures, "Don't worry Kurama, I won't let S'uke put you in a cage."

At this point Sasuke whirls away, squeezing the damned toy, almost tossing it into the furnace. Because Naruto won't give up. Naruto won't give this wretched animal up, no matter what he does. As much as he wants to end this now, Sasuke flings the plush back over to Naruto. Another time. He'll deal with this for another, better time. Right now, they've got other matters to deal with.

Naruto happily catches Kyuubi, as if catching a balloon of treats from the clouds. "Oh Kurama, you're safe. Did Sas'kay hurt you?" whispers Naruto gently, "Sas'kay's a teme, and jealous. Forgive him."

Brows twitch, and so does his eye. "Stop with the stupid talk."

"See?" snickers fill the air like wisps of fire, "he wishes he had you too. S'uke secretly wants to be your friend."

That's when the door from the main hall slams open.

_Tack_!

When the Director walks in, she carries a religious air. Her high bun and conservative attire speaks dryly and silently like a withering stale loaf of bread, very disagreeable and unpleasant. Heels clack across the dormitory, and she swoops a hold of Naruto's free hand. The other's busy holding Kurama. She drags him by the wrist, assuming totalitarian control. She successfully, if not violently, wedges obliquely into their gravity, storming the whole area clean of any depth or feeling. Like a vacuum.

"Now Sasuke, make yourself useful and help with the bags," she asks simply. Automatically. Before she drags Naruto unkindly by the wrist.

He's meeting Mizuki. He'll see who's taking his brother away. With the curiosity burning him down to ashes, Sasuke clutches the bags and he trails down the halls. What do they look like? Do they have a disagreeable smile, or are they clean, and heaven forbid if they smell because Naruto's sensitive to odors. And Naruto's also very quirky with millions of strange tendencies; biting, sucking his own thumb, too many to name since there's just so many little details. Little, almost unseen, peculiarities: only Sasuke'd know them by heart to thwart them. Or foster them.

Foster. Foster parents only put a roof over, and throw food in the fridge. But as for the details! The fleeting details, unlike the routine cycle of sleeping and eating, they're not so obvious. Certainly not routine, instead completely in the moment. Details can be lost and disappear forever.

They all get outside in the blaring autumn chill, and Naruto's shivering. Without thinking, Sasuke sets down the bags and unravels his scarf. He wraps the warm length around Naruto's neck twice and zips up the orange jacket over it.

"But S'uke, now I'm hot!" Naruto complains, but pulls on the scarf with a twinkle of admiration. "Do I hafta?"

"Don't get sick dobe," he warns, to which Naruto wrinkles his nose.

"It's not even cold!"

Sasuke glares, causing Naruto to fidget unhappily. "Keep it zipped," he orders.

"The whole way?"

"Naruto..."

"F-fine!" Naruto huffs and snaps his gaze away from Sasuke's narrowing eyes. "But I never get sick," he mumbles.

That's when the Director cuts in, "Mizuki-san's waiting."

The average sedan parked right in front of them, blinks at them. Mizuki's car. Trunk pops open, inviting to be filled with luggage. But Sasuke remains unmoving. "Let Mizuki take the bags himself."

"Sasuke," admonishes the Director, although somewhere in her voice is agreeing.

"Yeah! I dare Mizuki to come out!" snickers Naruto, oblivious to the tension, yet loyally following Sasuke's executive voice.

Many a second passes with no sign or indication of Mizuki's compliance. Thus, the Director sighs before bending down for Naruto's bags. However, in that very moment, Mizuki unfolds from the car and crosses around onto the sidewalk. Sasuke watches the man like he's some new species of being, and every detail he glosses over. The nose, narrow and punitive, grayed hair withered, and teeth sharp and unsympathetic, skin dull without light, clothes worn belongs to a delinquent unfitting of a man his age. In a word, Mizuki's undeserving. To send Naruto away to this creature's den, is to send him rotting in Mizuki's foul air and presence.

Quite contrarily to the very smell of him, Mizuki smiles. It's slanting with jagged teeth showing. "Heard about you from the Director. Sasuke Uchiha?"

"He's my brother!" intercedes Naruto, scowling as if offended by Mizuki's tone.

Ignoring Naruto spiking energy, Sasuke never removes his discerning gaze. And Mizuki laughs rather nervously, as if the scrutiny might unveil something. Something bad. Of course Naruto's busy acting cool, pretending to understand the gravity: hands in pockets, lips twisted into a pout, and brows furrowed in mock concentration.

At the peak of Naruto's intensity, or rather intense game of charades, Mizuki leans forward and pets him. The man ruffles wild yet soft blond hair like its some ball of fluff. The gesture causes Sasuke to narrow his eyes into distrusting slits. Noticing this, Mizuki offers, "You know, the Director mentioned how close you two were. I'll have to ask my wife if she'll mind having you over sometimes."

Wife. Who'd marry this scum? Sasuke didn't feel hopeful. "Go ahead. Ask."

"Of course Naruto has to be good, right Naruto?" prompts Mizuki, but serving it all too blandly.

Naruto huffs loudly and his lips curl into a scowl. "I'm good. When I wanna be."

"Hm. You don't know how very eager we are to have you," adds Mizuki, who now straightens up, retracting a hand away from the golden mess. "My wife can't get over how cute Naruto is, and we're lucky."

Sasuke softens visibly. He's getting reassured and needs it. Needs to hear the genuine tone backing those words because anyone who has Naruto is lucky. And the icy tendrils gripping his heart loosens up a bit, since Mizuki's saying the right things. The things he's never heard from other foster parents, about gratitude and even admiration.

Despite the reassuring statements, Sasuke holds his breath when Mizuki takes Naruto by the hand, leading his kid brother into the car. Time slows, heart beat's loud. Painful. He doesn't breathe, not until Mizuki clicks the door shut after Naruto. Clicks the trunk shut after stuffing it full of luggage. At the very sound of the engine roaring to life, the air changes into metal, he just can't breathe. Wants to sink into the quicksand of the overbearing pain, because he can't fight it down, like an invisible hand digging into him.

And that's when Naruto's blue optimistic orbs glare at him through the backseat car window. Naruto's watching him. Pouting replaced with obsessive fixation, Naruto's instinctive need to gauge his reaction. Naruto always looks up to him.

No. He can't let Naruto see his pain. Sasuke squares his jaw and schools the most impassive expression. He nods once.

Naruto's mouthing some words. "I promise."

Then the car speeds off into the distance. The exhaust pipes let out fumes of gray clouds. He doesn't move, not until the last tendril of smoke disperses. A wisp even reaches out to him. Sasuke finally breathes in.


	3. Runaway

Beta**: **GoodMorningFlower

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><p><em>Asking if he loves him, like asking if he loves oxygen or water, or gravity, as if the word yes would answer. When in fact his very existence, is answer alone, and that is all he could truly say.<em>

**...**

**Chapter Three**

**Runaway**

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The next time he sees Naruto, it's on Christmas Eve. One month later.

How each week's spent with nightmares running rampant, it was a ball. A grand party, you should have came. Ghouls of revenge standing by the windows, and wraiths of dripping disdain at his bedpost, and man you really should have been. He was after all the chaperon, and a great host.

Swears though he should sleep. Call this waking nightmarish party to an end, he really tried, you know? He tells Itachi to his side, he's trying, but every slipping or flutter of his eyes, he's jolted back awake checking his phone.

He's scared, god damn it, screwed up nerves and he's scared to really fall asleep. To be honest, he's scared he won't wake up. And worst of all, he'll miss a call from Naruto. Even as shadows edge in on him, darkness threatening to swallow him whole, he waits.

Waits for Naruto's call as seconds flick over the usual time, practically scraping his sides raw. Crimson clock letters burn in his periphery: a new hour's about to start. Insultingly ticks over while he lays in bed and he's too exhausted to move. Tears away from the time, completely.

Is this punishment? Would Naruto really cut him off?

They must have done something. Those god damned strangers, those imposters who smile without meaning it, they must have done something horrid. It was like yesterday he saw Mizuki's wretched face, you'd think he photographed the man and hung it up on his wall, to play darts with. But he's been doing just that, mentally, at least.

He rubs his face in with clammy hands. He misses. Missing the different shades of smile, the amplitudes of heat, the widening blue eyes sometimes begging and sometimes stubborn, sometimes completely unknown to him. He misses. Absence, it makes the heart sick of fondness, and more obsessive. He's obsessed, he's…

"Wanna see my room Sasuke?"

Why did he let them separate? Should have ran away _together_, they could have done it.

"Even got my own bathroom!"

And finally, here he is, on this Christmas Eve morning—with no school and an actual invitation—he's face to face with the very round expression of his kid brother. Fixating at him, longing, and capturing every single movement of his.

"And Kurama says he likes that I have two closets. Kurama says he likes sleeping in one of them. So stupid, right?"

Sasuke grits his teeth. He can't meet the gaze. Except how. How? How could _they_ keep him away for so long? They did this on purpose, probably laughing and recording his reaction. He really walks around the space like a shipwrecked sailor on shore, patting the sand, Sasuke must look so god damned helpless, what with four weeks without Naruto was time spent in a dark prison, rendered blind.

This moment rapidly dances in his vision. Like a whirlwind. A storm, a pent up storm. You should see Naruto, though. Anyone with functioning senses could tell the kid's crazy and madlike with joy. Naruto's already forgetting about him. Hatred and jealousy torrents in his veins, up to the throbbing vein in his neck. He feels his own pulse, and clenches his fists.

"That's all you have to say to me?" bites out Sasuke, slowly surveying the bedroom, "Kurama and how fantastic this place has been?"

Skidding to a nervous stop, Naruto blinks, "But, but…I'm just happy for Kurama. He has his favorite habitat now, he _likes_ closets. But we never had an actual closet before—"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he growls. Habitat, that's a new word. He's missing Naruto's new vocabulary. What else.

"And I have so many toys, Sas'kay. Kurama gets jealous." Running to the corner, Naruto pries of a lid of a plastic box. "See? I always win at show and tell now."

Muscles are deadening. What is this feeling? He expected so many damned things, but this. He hadn't even considered this. And Sasuke uncrosses his arms, a painful whoosh of breath escaping. He understands. Naruto will forget about him in no time, his brother will choose this life. It's practically perfect. Naruto will abandon him, like Itachi.

"You two boys get comfortable, get the fireplace going downstairs," calls out the wife from the kitchen, "because we're having a feast soon!"

No. The feast's inside him. Parasites eating, termites digging, and the holes rendered in the heart make it so difficult to breathe. Like the way the curtains reek, the smell of abandonment and uncleanliness sickening him, swaying him. He follows the scrambling figure downstairs, never failing to catch the dusty edges, the spots on the floor, and yet…

He can't unsee the sorrow melding under Naruto's eyes, as wretched dark circles…he can't—

_Bam. Bam._

Sounds of chopping and dicing slice the air. And the cackling of a sizzling oven roast sprinkle the silence. This could have been a beautiful home…

Kneeling on an armchair by a frozen pane of window, Naruto glances back eagerly, "I love fire," he says.

Finally they're alone, while Mizuki and his wife work on dinner in the kitchen. And without their prying eyes, he's waking more and more. Breathes shallowly, as if fearful they'll lurch out of the kitchen any second, and he's wide awake.

Yet, the coldness in his bones just won't melt. You know about arthritis, how old folk contract the pain in their joints, and he's thinking what if arthritis came from a cold from inside? He can't shake off the pain nor the cold, and he can't shake off Naruto's degrading appearance.

Like the changes are written in letters. Naruto's paler, and dark shadows circle around disproportionately large blue eyes. And when Sasuke squeezes the small, soft, and bare hands, they're cold. You should have felt those perfectly soft hands, you'd get the arthritis too just from touching. Because even after their brief contact long ago, he feels the chill snapping his tendons like shattering ice.

So he gets the fire going. And not because the foster mom told him to. But because he needs this fire more than anything right now, and so does his brother.

The whole while Naruto sits by the window, puffing at the glass, creating clouds, and drawing shapes onto the condensation with jabbing fingers.

They're alone as they can get. Sasuke casually inserts, "You don't say much to me."

He sees Naruto shift nervously from his peripherals.

"You too," murmurs Naruto, voice muffled when he presses his face against a frozen window pane.

"I have nothing to say."

Naruto shivers at the icy retort. He turns to stare at Sasuke's back. "Well me neither, _jerk_," he yells, but not so loud as to draw attention.

When Sasuke glances back, their eyes clash like winds scraping and scarring against another.

Almost immediately, Naruto sinks in fear, however curls his lips in stubborn rebuke, "Stop looking at me like that. Just stop."

However Sasuke's eyes chill further. "Come here Naruto."

This time, there's no whys, no whats, no questioning, no arguing. Naruto scampers forward shaking, brows acquiver. He gasps when Sasuke snatches his hands into a tight grip.

"Don't lie to me," he warns, tightening his hold.

"Sa-Sasuke—" Naruto winces as the grip intensifies.

"Why do you avoid me so much?"

"I'm not, just let go—"

"Look at me and don't lie, Naruto."

Naruto gasps, before struggling to keep steady eye contact as if Sasuke's intensity crushes him. "Stop!"

"I'll stop when you give me a reason to. Answer my question."

And the question, as always, is never truly said in words. Expressed by the touch, by sign, and feeling—so that a flash of pain flits both their expressions.

Bowing his head, Naruto whispers, "They say—that you're keeping me from a normal life."

"A normal life with them," finishes Sasuke understanding perfectly. "And you agree with them Naruto? That I stop you from a normal life?"

Stupefied, Naruto says nothing, as his mouth hangs in shock.

"Is that why you stopped calling?"

Naruto lets out a strangled noise. "No, no, that's not true. I don't believe it at all!"

"They want to keep you," drawls Sasuke, finally letting go. "They want to adopt you. But I'm in the way. As long as I'm around, you won't say yes to them."

"Don't say anymore. _I only want you_. You promised me, S'uke…"

"I can't. Not yet."

"But. You. Promised. You promised, you'd come for me!" The crescendo in Naruto's voice, sends his blood curling. "And I'm waiting and I don't want no one else!"

You'd never hear a clearer, louder, and genuine song in your whole life. But Naruto could convince you instantly. Could get someone riled up enough to go to war for a cause they never even believed in, because Naruto's too perfect. An emotional, affectionate kid, you'd love him.

Then he sees the dark circles shadowing Naruto's wavering gaze. Distracting and disarming his focus.

Sasuke swallows the rising anger, "So tell me. How are they treating you?"

Naruto swallows too. "'M just tired," he mumbles unhappily, swaying at Sasuke's intensity. "They never pick me up from the bus stop. Not like you do."

"What?" he grates out, flutter of anger in his heart. It's not safe for Naruto to walk alone, not ideal.

"But that's not it!" Naruto flushes, finally color in his face, surely about to sing another convincing declaration. "When you picked me up, we go back together, we spend time together. 'N I tell you everything that happened in school! And you always gimme good advice S'uke, but they don't do that. They don't got good advice to give. They don't even listen like you do."

"We call every day, but you choose to keep to yourself." A pause, till he tells the kid, "Unacceptable Naruto, do you understand?"

Clouds overcast Naruto's brightness. "But...but..." He frowns deeper like he's thinking out the words. "'M not…'m not allowed to call you. I hide the phone. They said if I listened to 'em then they'd let you come for Christmas. I wanted to see you for Christmas."

Finally the truth unveils. Like the thick red curtain on stage, yanked apart too soon, and none of the actors are in costume, and the scenery's all off. He knew those fucking, god damned imposters were all too fake—he knew—

Truth rains down like hail and snow, and Sasuke turns away just in time to hide the coldness in his eyes. Instead of answering he at last ignites the fire in the hearth. The orange flames burst suddenly. Booming in his ears, like an echo of his own internal eruption. Despite Naruto squeezing his leg for attention, he lets his body focus on the kindling embers, while an icy chill splits his insides into fragments. Icicles sharp and jabbing, and tearing. Shredding.

Naruto keeps the pressure on his thigh, but soon he can't feel that either, and he wants to smash the metal pole against the wall. Tear this place apart, shatter the photo frames, pierce the windows stabbing it just the way his ego's been. Mizuki's more than foul, to connive his eight year old brother. He almost burns his hand. Especially as Mizuki and his wife steal his brother away into their grimy hands when they can't provide, not like he can. Shallow quick breathing and he can't see straight.

Sasuke clenches his fist, grabs Naruto, and he pulls them to the door, "Let's go!"

_Run away_.

Jerked forward by Sasuke's force, Naruto frantically stammers, "R-really?"

"I'll take you to my University, we can pack, run away before the police," Sasuke chokes off, what is he saying, "they'll give up on us in a week, we can find another place to stay."

And the worst part of it all, Naruto grins and nods. "Okay. Just let me get Kurama, just wait a sec, I'll be really quick."

Naruto would blindly follow. But before either of them could move, the furious weather blasts at them. Like a blizzard, a wind blows through the open door, like he's opened a door to hell, and all the biting elements lash at them, all the snow, hail, ice gusting at them relentlessly, and he's struck completely stupefied.

But then, Sasuke hears. Sways forward at the distant sound of an echo, blowing into the room. The sound of _cawing_, of the crows.

In a breath, he slams the door shut because this isn't happening, this isn't real and he's losing it. Practically leaning over and pressing his back against the door like he's expecting a monster, some ogre, some scavenging demon to break in. But he can hardly blockade the sound of the raven, synergizing and paralleling his pants, his very own booming deafening heart beat.

Confused, Naruto blinks and raises his eyes in a gesture that begs for an explanation.

"We…can't," Sasuke manages, hollow.

Because no matter where they run, he'll still hear the dreadful echoes, the wretched beak parting and screaming, like knives beating down on his flesh. He leads them away back into the crucible of the broken home.

Disappointment blows off the excitement like an explosive bomb, and Naruto snorts, "I knew it." Then a sly kind of mocking, only children are capable of, overtakes Naruto, "I tried to make you jealous of my toys. Wanted you to take me away. Because I miss you."

He wants to say, _I miss you too idiot_, but the words die off. He swallows at the way Naruto's eyes darken into a cobalt blue, promising to offer him the depth, promising to fill his every need, the clawing void inside of him. He can't think. He needs. The next thing he feels, is Naruto wrenching him down to a scant inch apart. Hears the breaths of resolve huffing from his brother, and Sasuke feels his whole skin awaken.

"I love you," whispers Naruto, before pressing up completely.

Naruto kisses him and the heat between them's fluid, like sour sweet juice, and the instinct of long being starved, of being hungry takes over him. He misses, god damn it, he misses so much. And he clenches up, letting those lips brush over his, tasting the affection like glazed fruit: the most divine, and soft, and not even the hideous dark kawing could penetrate the moment. Though the heavenly experience is cut short as Naruto jumps back, grinning weakly. Staring expectantly at him. Waiting. Fixating, gauging, tittering over the edge, Naruto balances over a tight rope, about to fall and break if Sasuke doesn't say the right words.

_Wrong, right, inappropriate_. Are the first to bubble up his throat, and he swallows them down.

"Do you want me to pick you up from the bus stop?" is what he offers instead.

"Yes! Can you really? Can you really…" Naruto trails off, out of fear that it's a joke.

Sasuke's mouth curves up as sudden as magic. "I'll work it out somehow."

Slamming into him in another tight embrace, Naruto nuzzles against him. "That's the best Christmas present, _ever_! In the whole wide world. I'm gonna see you every day. I'll tell you everything—so much to say a'ready!"

He'll arrange with Professor Haruno, and he'll have to shift his schedule around. Lab research in the mornings, instead of afternoons, and classes in the evenings instead of mornings. To get in the half an hour with Naruto everyday, especially since Mizuki and his dreadful wife won't even be around or know. This sounds so perfect in his mind, that he never thought the difficulties or details through when he promised his brother he'd commit to this.

"Hey you two," calls out Mizuki, "help set the table, okay?"

That's when Naruto lets go of him and runs out to help out. At the burst of enthusiasm, the wife pets at the blond tussled hair encouragingly as his kid brother carries a stack of plates. Following Naruto's lead, Sasuke sets the glasses, and Mizuki places the steaming main dishes upon the center of the dining table. Soon they all take their places and he and Naruto sit side by side, across from the muted, happy grey couple.

"This is our first Christmas together with you Naruto," Mizuki announces.

His wife adds, "With more to come, I'd say."

Her muddy smile and grimy intonation splatters the air, raining dirt upon his plate.

At that, Sasuke loses his appetite, and turns with pain. The foul smell hurts. And he instead watches Naruto dig into his plate; how the small mouth fits in as much food as possible. And no sooner does he dissociate from the hideous slimes from across the tracks. Focusing only upon the silhouette of light beside him, how each sound of satiation, each speckle of food Naruto intakes, that's a piece of food inside him too.

"So," starts the wife, her eyes training onto Sasuke, discerning, "I finally get to meet you."

Even though his heartbeat races, Sasuke only tilts his head in acknowledgment.

"Do you work?" she asks, or rather, interrogates rigidly.

"Yes."

Naruto's eyes widen in excitement, and with mouth full of stir fried vegetables, cries and even pounds the table, "Listen everybody! Sas'kay's on a mission. Not only that but he's the bestest—ever—ah—I," coughs manically as food lodges in his throat. Before Sasuke could panic or intervene, Naruto clears his throat, and rambles on, "And he's going to take me away when he's done. So, yeah! Right Sasuke?"

"Chew and swallow…idiot," Sasuke murmurs, flushing. He feels the intense scrutiny of Mizuki's wife now, as he pats his brother's back.

The lady, scowls and her rouged cheeks stiffen into a mean contortion. "Where do you work?"

"At a laboratory in my University," he drawls, without meeting her hawk eyes, "I work for my sensei, on biochemical research."

Mizuki smirks. "Very smart kid you are, huh Sasuke?"

"Of course Sas'kay's smart!" yells Naruto, pounding the table again, "The smartest ever!"

"How smart," the wife sarcastically responds. "Do you even get paid? It all sounds like basic student work to me."

"I do."

"Poorly, I am guessing."

"Not as poorly as you think," quips Sasuke, feeling the corners of his mouth quirk up.

"You live with a roommate, is that correct?"

"Yes."

She sighs, as if in relief. "Well, then how are you filling up Naruto's little head with these ideas of living together? Sounds so completely foolish, it's almost funny!" Seeing both Naruto and Sasuke stiffen, she presses on, her voice dropping into a coy octave, "Really you're just both kids. And with that said, both in need of real parents."

Such words evaporate in the fleeting moment; how very true they are. And yet, they carve an everlasting hole in his psyche to which in hindsight, he could never shake off, not even in the next five or ten years. In fact she sounds similar to the Director, accusing him of selfish immature ideals. Of kidnapping Naruto into a whirlwind of wrong, into something dysfunctional.

And just like with the Director, he fights back.

"In six months," begins Sasuke, feeling his own muscles twitch in provocation, "I'll be an adult just like you."

Despite Mizuki signaling her to stop the cross-examination, the wife continues sharply, "Don't tell me you…excuse me. Do you really believe—truly believe they'll let you adopt another human being without—without an actual real career, without a _home_?" she hisses, to which Sasuke leans back in shock.

"That's why I already have a place in mind, a place in the city. And my career is in academics. In fact, my professor has already recommended me to a graduate program."

"What a smart, smart kid," repeats Mizuki, enjoying how much affect it has on his wife. "Right, dear?"

Jealousy simmers in her eyes. Oh she's sore as hell, you could see the flaring of her old nostrils. "Your tone, Uchiha, is very disrespectful. Which furthers just how I feel you don't understand how the world works."

"And you…" now he's finally looking at her, searching her cold gaze, "you understand?"

"Of course, how dare you. And anyone with eyes can see you're incapable."

_Shwiiip_!

Bolting up from his seat, Naruto throws his wet, dirty chopsticks at her face. "Shut up! Old, old, smelly _witch_!"

Sasuke freezes. Gooseflesh run all over him, especially with how the soddy onions trickles over her squaring jaw. The onions, the sauced up peppers, drabbling down her face. Naruto threw his grimy chopsticks, and they had struck her full force. In a word, she's furious. The pores of her skin even opening with that wretched ooze he's smelled from earlier, letting loose her vile innards and they seep like jungle fertilizer.

This woman's possessed, like a demon, he can see it.

Also sees his Naruto's fur raised like a provoked kitten, with small fists curled into balls of justice.

After a deathly moment of silence, Mizuki roars with laughter; apparently enjoying his wife's misery, as she's now sprinkled with greasy food.

"Mizuki. How dare you encourage such hateful behavior!" she scolds, angry at her husband's amusement.

Mizuki smirks balefully, remains silent, as he prefers to watch his wife wither in fury.

In fact, the wife whips to Naruto, forgetting Sasuke completely. "Why darling?" she says, her frown deep and genuine, "Why would you be so hateful?"

"Don't like how you talk to my brother."

"Don't let Sasuke fool you for one second—"

"Oi, oi! Sas'kay's taking me back! And I don't care what you say," yells Naruto, threatening to throw another snowball of food at her.

"Clean it up!" she yells back, "Clean this mess up right now, Naruto!"

"You're a witch, so clean it up yourself," hisses Naruto.

"I said now!" she shrieks, shooting to her feet like a volcanic eruption.

Naruto only shouts over her, "Don't care! And guess what? _I put boogers in your food_, witch!"

She gasps before turning expectantly to Mizuki, as if he's to take care of the situation. However, Mizuki shrugs, and fights hard not to laugh. So she turns to Sasuke, narrowing her eyes at the very sight of him. Her eyes, they send missiles. Barraging one after the other, full of blame. Blaming him for the barbaric behavior, blaming him for the horrid table manners, her eyes burn with hatred towards him for spoiling Naruto.

Shame drowns him in that instant, and Sasuke flushes. Quickly, he reaches for Naruto's dainty wrists, squeezing. "Enough," he says in a low voice.

Panting, Naruto lets his brother manhandle him back into sitting. Obediently dropping into the chair like a puppy. And it was this control, or the easy manner in which Naruto listens to him, that sends the wife into a storm. She cuts across the room, disappearing into the kitchen. Minutes later, furious stomps up the stairs are heard.

Then a door slam.

She never returns to the table. Sasuke, Naruto, and Mizuki stay put in silence.

Mizuki's malicious smile wanes, and finally he speaks, "You shouldn't tease my wife that way."

"Yup," nods Naruto, glaring at Mizuki, "and you too. But too bad, I did it to you too."

"What?"

"_I said_," shouts Naruto, with a shit-eating grin, "I put spit and boogers in your food."

In shame, Sasuke buries his face into his palms. This is not happening. Not happening. Not his Naruto. His Naruto wouldn't…

"Did you like the taste?" asks Naruto, smirking, even crossing his arms.

"You little…"

Naruto laughs. "Merry Christmas."

That's when Mizuki rages up like a bullet, holding back a very strong impulse for violence. "Knew you were just a mon—"

Sasuke rubs his temples, before grating out, "Naruto's not serious. He's joking."

Roaring with such laughter, Naruto nearly falls out of the chair. Points a mocking finger up at Mizuki who towers with increasing fury. "You actually fell for it!" in between chortles and snorts, Naruto fans himself for air, "Fell for it!"

At once, Mizuki calms down. Relief seems to swamp his expression, and the brow raised in hellish anger now relaxes.

By the time dessert's out, Mizuki starts his talk, "Listen Sasuke, it's getting late. And we already planned having you spend the night here. Open the presents tomorrow with Naruto, what do you say?"

Obviously he's not going to say no. But Naruto seems to be frightened at the possibility, and grabs ahold of his sleeve. "Yeah Sas'kay, you're staying. Right?"

"Dummy," he murmurs under his breath.

"What?" exclaims Naruto, shooting out of his seat. "No I'm not."

They've fought before, physically. Naruto doesn't stand a chance because of the tremendous weight difference that naturally accompanies a ten year age gap. However the boyish pride and determination powers Naruto like jet fuel, and they'll get in squabbles. Sometimes, Sasuke lets his kid brother 'win' the fight—because he always wished Itachi would let him win once in a while. Maybe give back to Naruto what he never got from his own older brother, the feeling of equality.

But there's a time and place for everything. He sends Naruto one look, and his brother instantly backs down, and scowls.

Sasuke feels his appetite revive a little, like when he drinks his tea as to hide the slight chuckle.

Eventually all dishes pack into the washer, the table unsets like it's never been set, and that the dinner they all shared that night disappears like some fleeting moment, very unmemorable in a sense. The night comes to a close and there's not much else he pays attention to. Like the holiday music or the holiday décor, which never strike anything in him because Christmas spirit's dead for him, dead like rusted, piled up autumn leaves. He doesn't care about it anymore, not like he cares about school and work because Christmas spirit, whatever that is, is just some remote memory.

He and Naruto sit by the hearth together on the couch. This time with Mizuki in the room, leaning in an armchair in the opposite corner, and his grey old presence's like a snake in the room, ready for an vulnerable moment to strike. To immerse in the moment with Naruto would mean death, would mean exposure. Watched. Scrutinized. Judged, by those hideous wrinkled, crowed eyes, Sasuke scarcely has it in him to loosen his walls, to lower the fortress and fondle Naruto how he would without another in the room.

So they all watch TV, some Christmas Eve special. Plain as air. However eventually, like a drifting feather to his lap, Naruto droops over him, and naturally Sasuke feels his arms encircle his brother protectively.

"Kid's getting sleepy, look at that," remarks Mizuki, smile's snide. "Haven't seen him this tired yet. You must really be that soothing for him."

Sasuke's about to open his mouth to respond, but Naruto's snoring cuts him off. The small pink lips are parted, with puffs of air escaping in a rhythm. In that moment, Naruto nuzzles even more into his abdomen, twitching from whatever dream he's in. Sasuke feels like he's embracing a bundle of warmth, and he doesn't want to let go or break their contact.

"You really think you can do it? My wife's right, you know." A slow, spreading smirk, and Mizuki practically contorts the air with slicing biting winds. "You're a kid too."

The hole's been long carved. Now he feels a gaping wound, numb to pain. "Do I have to convince you?" he answers, booming, festering anger, boiling at his lips. "Because the people in charge of that decision, will be convinced. And I'll never have to see you again."

"He'd be happy here, you're just a selfish kid," mulls Mizuki, his haughty gaze resting on the sleeping boy cradled in Sasuke's arms.

_Selfish._

_"But you knew that already, didn't you_?" presses Mizuki, "And you brainwashed Naruto, and you convinced him well alright."

"You don't understand," he grates out, anything to put the fire out, anything to put out the wretched tone and words.

That's when the grey, disagreeable, revolting—Sasuke swallows thickly—this disgusting slime rises up. "Maybe you'll see me again, Sasuke," an ugly hideous tune, "Maybe I can convince Naruto to stay, because my wife's just in love with the kid. She needs him."

"Not like me, never like me," hears his own voice pitch lower into darkness, cracking open like shell.

However Mizuki's smirk widens. "Well, I'll go ahead put him to bed. Unless you want to. You guys can share the room together. _One last time_. Yeah?"

Heating in the face, freezing inside. Are his eyes really burning with gushing heat? Sasuke clenches his fingers, to feel himself again, but he can't. Except he sees the unhappy gleam flashing in Mizuki like lightning, startling jolts threatening to strike.

He stands when he finds the strength, with Naruto still fast asleep in his arms. Face to face with a cave monster, because this man wields his words and power like a brute. Sasuke squares his jaw, biting his tongue. He's said too much. Exposed too much. Walls like Itachi's would never crumble before the likes of this scum.

And as he's led upstairs to Naruto's room, not once does Naruto ever wake up.

With several blankets thrown over them, they share the twin bed, and Sasuke's still cold. Enough to send his teeth chattering little by little. Freezing inside. And if Naruto'd wake up, reinvigorate him, assure him again, then this pain of frost could melt, could disappear.

"Naruto," he says.

Almost instantly, he feels Naruto twitch in his sleep.

Their hair's splayed and mingling atop the shared pillow, and Sasuke leans even closer. "Don't tell them we'll meet. Don't tell them that we'll see each other every day." Strangers, that's what they are. "You understand me?"

A snore catches and hitches in Naruto's throat, and for a long moment there's silence.

Then a sleepy mumble, "_...'Suke_..."

"You don't trust strangers, especially them."

Somehow his voice scratches and plunders into Naruto's dreams, because he hears, "_'...promise_..."

When the beautiful symphony of snoring plays again, Sasuke relaxes.

* * *

><p>"You want to drop my class?" whips out Professor Haruno, now removing her glasses. "Just last week we agreed you'd be on the quick track if you took my intro to nuclear medicine course. This upcoming semester."<p>

Sasuke coolly eyes her up, because he's already decided. "Professor," he starts, but there's an iciness in her emerald eyes, "You're mistaken. I don't prefer to drop the class. But you offer no other section, no other class meeting times."

"Uchiha-kun," she drawls, walking around her desk and cutting the space between them. "There are other ways to make this work."

"What other ways?"

She's taller than him, because she's wearing her heels today. "Ways," she murmurs.

Without blinking, Sasuke holds his ground. Even as she smirks, even as she leans forward, planting a hand on her desk for support. Even as she's testing the waters. As she's breaking the barriers of his personal space. Demonstrating control, how she gets away with what she pleases to do. Sasuke's unflinching.

"Listen Uchiha-kun. You've been my student for a year now, you're my personal pupil—my project, I've put time, effort, consideration in letting you research under me."

"I'm grateful for that." His tone is flat and dry.

Sakura Haruno recoils imperceptibly. "You only see me as your professor, boss, and mentor. But inevitably, we've built a friendship I like to think," she whispers lowly, "We're friends too."

"So you're taking this personally."

"Personally," she scoffs, "personally I find you naïve, Sasuke. I'm saying I want you to succeed. I'm your friend and I want to _personally_ see you succeed."

Now that stone wall he's set up, cracks. And he fidgets nervously, darting his eyes away from hers. He's slowly crumbling underneath her, and she knows it, she knows she's winning by that sly smile on her face. He can't maintain rigidity, because Sakura looms over him with such heat—with such obvious burning intention.

That's when she says, "Stay in my class. And if you can't show up to lecture, you're excused."

"I won't make it to any of those lectures," he gets out hoarsely, like gravel's lodged in his throat.

Not expecting that, Sakura steels up. "Is that so?"

"That's why…I'm dropping." He struggles to look her in the eyes, and he can tell she enjoys seeing him vulnerable. He can tell by her worried gaze, and the way her hand reaches up and squeezes his shoulder.

"Tell me why, Sasuke."

He considers her for a long time, or what felt eternal. But he fights down the instinct to open up. So he doesn't admit anything. "Other obligations."

At that, Sakura pulls away and retreats back to sitting on her desk. She crosses her legs, perfectly unblemished because of the pantyhose. She doesn't miss the look of relief manifesting in Sasuke's expression at their distance again. "Okay. That's okay. I trust you, Sasuke. Stay registered for my class and I will overlook attendance."

He can't believe what he's heard. He snaps up his gaze into hers, searching.

"Yes. I mean it. I'll give you the textbook, you work your genius potential, study at home. Take all the midterms in my office, submit all the homework online…this is an easy A for you."

"Is that even permissible?"

She scoffs, before pushing the stray rosy hairs behind her ear. "You're speaking to the head of the chemistry department, and lead researcher of this University's major money making projects. As a big player here, I'm part of a few that decide what's allowable or not in this bureaucratic institution."

After her short tirade, she laughs again, atop her words, "Of course it's perfectly permissible. I can't make this kind of exception for just anyone—you're simply beyond the average student. Especially under my wing, I trust that you don't need me to lecture you on a subject."

"I…" he thought he'd never be lost for words around her, but the moment's come. She's sitting on the edge of her desk, looking at him expectantly.

"Yes?" Sakura prompts, eyes slanting up in secret pleasure like a cat's.

"I don't know how to thank you."

A glint of something foreign shines. She smiles. "You'll worry about thanking me later. Just get back home safely, and prepare for this next semester."

"I appreciate your help," he murmurs routinely. However the twinkle in her eyes, her spark, her burning purpose, sends him faltering. He turns around quickly before she can see it.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning at the lab," Professor Haruno calls after, "bye, Uchiha-kun."

.

.

.

.

Tick. Tick.

He'll be late. Naruto's going to wait for him in the cold. But he can't abandon the lab with unfinished work. Professor Haruno's asked for a certain quantity of freshly distilled ethanol, and he foolishly thought the process would take no longer than an hour. So here he is, tied to the ventilatory hood, watching gas condense into a round bottom flask, dripping drop by drop.

_Tock tock._

For a second longer, Sasuke stays still, notebook in his left, and a pen in his right. Ready to record the final volume, ready to disassemble. He quickly dates his lab report.

"Hey Uchiha-sempai, looks like you've got the batch! Professor's gonna' be happy," cheers his lab-mate, who at that point looks over his shoulder.

Sasuke sharply turns to face the other, "I need a favor."

The lab mate cocks a brow, and smiles. "Sure man what is it?"

"I have somewhere to be. Do you mind cleaning up for me, this one time?"

"Seriously?" A pause, but then his peer breaks into jovial laughter. "No problem, I'll cover you."

Sasuke nods before removing his goggles, and he briskly snaps the nitrile gloves off. "Thanks."

Just as he finishes washing his hands, and tucks his notes into the drawers, his lab-mate creeps up behind.

"Hey, you're meeting someone aren't you?"

"Yeah, why?" Sasuke's casual, as if he missed the teasing tone in the other.

"No, nothing. Just probably shouldn't tell Professor Haruno, she'd get jealous if she found out..."

Rolling his eyes, Sasuke dismisses instantly, "Stupid talk."

"No way, man!" His lab mate grins. "You're her favorite, Sasuke. Everyone in the lab knows it."

"Believe what you want." Sasuke hangs his white coat on the rack. "Don't forget to check the purity. Needs a match test."

"Hah, okay. Got it. See you tomo..." The lab mate blinks back at the empty room before him. "...sheesh that Sasuke can run."

Yes, he's doing the walk-run combo, walking madly with force putting gravity itself to shame. Sasuke storms for the bus stop. Waiting by the sign, waiting and waiting, eyes flickering to his watch. If the bus comes right now, he'll only be five minutes late.

But the bus never comes, until twelve forsaken minutes go by. Now he'll be fifteen minutes late, if the bus rides quickly. However, at the next stop, a handicapped person on a walker tries to get on board, and much time funnels in accommodating this difficult passenger. So now if the bus makes express stops, he'll only be thirty minutes late. When it's his stop, Sasuke catapults out and hopes the crosswalks will all be green-but each crosswalk he hits, are red. Now he's forty fucking minutes late.

Then finally, he sees the corner where Naruto's waiting. And the sight of Naruto is like an oasis in this desert of panic, sweeping relief of salvation. His worst what ifs died at the reassurement his brother's standing untouched and safe. Inhaling in deeply, Sasuke walks over in long strides. The small figure, wrapped in a scarf, in a puffy coat, had his blond hair exposed to the chilling air.

"Naruto," he calls out.

Naruto turns round, shock and happiness swirling into a smile. All baby teeth show. "Knew you'd come!"

"Put on your hat. You have it don't you?"

"No I don't like hats. No hats for me."

Sasuke gets on a knee and man handles his brother, gets the stubborn boy to turn round, so he can fumble with the backside of Naruto's coat. There's a hood tucked underneath, as usual when Naruto dresses himself sloppily. And so he pulls the hood from its inward hidden positon out, letting it enclose Naruto's small baby face, even the faux fur on the rims played cutely with the fierce expression.

In fact at the sudden coverage, Naruto wails, "No! Get it off. Hate hats."

"You stupid usuratonkachi, how long did you wait for me? In the cold? Without covering your head. Idiot!" Sasuke fights for control, tightening the shaking boy in his hold.

"But it's not that cold!" Naruto wiggles before looking up innocently, as strands of his furry hood fringes around his big orbs. "'M sorry. I'll wear it."

"Let's go," he commands, grabbing the dainty hand.

Naruto bounces as he tries to keep up with the fast pace, especially as Sasuke holds his hand the whole way. "What happened Sas'kay?"

"Nothing happened. Just traffic and work."

"Oh. I don't like either of those things. Boo!" When Naruto sees no reaction from his brother, he scrunches his nose. "Hey S'uke, I found a penny face up."

They quickly cut across a crosswalk, and they're both quiet. Until Naruto huffs, and tries again. Picks up the penny, letting it glisten under a gray skylight. "I found some luck, ya see that Sasuke?"

He glances furtively, catching Naruto's sly expression and the dull glint of the brazen penny. "You know I don't believe in superstition."

_Grrrrraaaauughn!_

The sudden whizzing of a car, and its horrendous honking, startles them both.

"Ah! No!" Naruto scrambles clumsily, falling face forward, "No, no! It fell!"

Quickly, he bends over to Naruto's side. "Moron! What are you doing?"

"No, no," comes the muffled cry, before Naruto unfolds from the cold pavement. Squeezing his face embarrassingly, "Aw shucks, it fell…"

Sasuke yanks his brother close, and clasps their hands, as if gluing them together. "What fell? And stay close to me, will you?"

"The good luck penny! Had it in my hands and then—and then the car just came out of nowhere and the penny fell into that sewer."

They both blink before Sasuke sighs, very much annoyed. "Who said we need luck? We don't need luck."

Naruto frowns, looking at the metal bars in which the penny had fallen in between. Some deep hell underneath, a dark underworld of sewers. And it's like Sasuke's words don't faze or get to through to him, lost in the bustling sounds of the city. Even as cars whizz violently by, action all around, and yet the whole time Naruto glares at the small openings to the underworld of sewers.

He can't get inside Naruto's child-like perception, but Sasuke swallows. Nervously. For if he's not mistaken, Naruto's watching with curiosity. Probably imagining what kind of adventure awaits underground, underneath in that darkness. Like hell he'd even let Naruto _ consider_.

"It's terrible down there," he says thickly.

"How do you know?" snaps Naruto, eyes flaring in intrigue.

"There's alligators down there, spiders that'll kill you in a single bite, slime that infects you inside and out," he schools into impassiveness, "And I've lost friends there."

"Alligators? You mean real actual alligators?"

"So don't you think about it, Naruto."

Grimacing, Naruto looks away and squeezes their hands tightly. "Eh, eh, maybe I won't then..."

Naruto trails off because he sneezes violently.

The sneezing and the sniffling get worse as Naruto rambles on about his day. Sasuke tightens the grip and slows down the pace. Unable to finish any sentence without sniffing, Naruto rubs his eyes in frustration. He's coming down with something. So when they near Mizuki's home, Sasuke conducts them to a stop several paces away. He dips a hand under and around Naruto's hood, and massages the scarved neck. At the feel of the massage, Naruto screws his eyes shut because getting coddled by his older brother, is too overwhelmingly pleasurable..

"Only a few more months," he says, almost to himself, "I get to take you home."

Naruto nods, and squeezes his hand. "Don't like it with...with...them."

At the fear flickering in those blue eyes, Sasuke jolts into alert mode. "Tell me."

"Don't like her."

"Who? Mizuki's wife?" To which Naruto nods slowly, "What does she do?"

Naruto purses his lips, then bows his head in deep thought. Like he's recalling some image. And imperceptibly he shivers, even Sasuke feels it by their connected palms. He feels Naruto quiver not from the cold but something far more unpleasant.

"Naruto..."

"It's—it's nothing!"

Sasuke narrows his gaze, he can see the lie before he hears it. "Naruto I want to know what's bothering you."

"F-forget it. I'm kidding! Just a joke, haha got you! See how funny I am?" The laughs rumble forcefully, loudly, and sharp. "I'm seeing you 'morrow right, right?"

"Yes like usual. I won't be late this time."

Now the fear's replaced with happiness, like a shift in gear. Naruto presses into him, especially when they're a block away. This embrace, he almost can't let go. Presses harder. Their jackets rub, but a barrier thicker than a wall, couldn't reduce the transmission of feeling.

"What would you do," whispers Naruto, "if I ran away?"

Sasuke tightens his grip, screwing his eyes into a grimace.

"To you. If I ran away to you."

He's breathless. Doesn't have the punitive tone he ought to take. Ought to be. "Don't. You hear me? I decide. Not you."

"Then say you love me," pleads Naruto, pulling Sasuke down to his level like a tall branch, "say it and I'll keep waiting for you."

"I don't have to say it, you should already know," he answers almost condescendingly.

"_But you never say it back, S'uke!_"

He lets Naruto go. Before Naruto could plant a kiss, or before they entangle into another embrace, he steps back as if he's touched a hot furnace. Their connection tears and cracks apart. And he hears Naruto pant in disappointment, hears even his own shallow breaths.

For a frozen moment, they search each other's gazes.

"I love you, S'uke."

Swears the snow flurries in the air shake and melt. Or was that the chill in his heart? Heat and warmth resurging. Healing. He can reclaim the warmth wholly, with just one kiss. They could reclaim a whole future, run away, anything at all. And yet, he stands paralyzed. Watches the storms in one trembling blue orb, and peace wavering in the other because Naruto's expression tears into two right before him. Asking if he loves him, like asking if he _loves oxygen _or water, or gravity, as if the word yes would answer. When in fact his very existence, is answer alone, and that is all he could truly say.

"So you won't say it back? _Why_? Just say it back!"

"You're a kid, Naruto. Still a stupid kid," what is he saying, "anyone can say what they want, without even meaning it," _he's a kid_, "you want to hear the words when they're not valuable at all. I can't even remember the last time words have saved me."

Voice's hoarse, so he whips forward and wrenches a hold for better communication. "Tell me. Do you want to hear about someone loving you, or actually have someone love you?"

Shivering and wincing, Naruto shakes his head.

"Which? Which is it, Naruto? I asked a question."

"Both."

Sasuke's lips curl in annoyance, until Naruto adds, "I want to say I love you and mean it. Is that _illegal_, huh? No 'cos I'd be in jail now, right? See? I'm here."

"Naruto…forget it," he murmurs.

In panic, blond brows furrow frighteningly at the dismissal. "Just believe me, Sasuke! You don't have to say it back, as long as you believe me at leas—"

"Enough," he cuts in. And he has to hold his brother from recoiling, because he whispers, "Don't—don't make me say unnecessary things."

"S-Sasuke, I…I won't. Can we—can I—"

Flushing crimson, Naruto quits stammering and tips his head up to close the distance. Hesitation and vulnerability pours out of the round, rubicund expression, as Naruto inches closer and closer: the whole while Sasuke's heart pounds like a dry funeral drum, booming in his blood. At the last second, or the last inch rather, he gently yanks them to a safe distance apart.

"Go already, you're going to get sick," he says, opting to look up at the Mizuki household. Anywhere but the admiring, affectionate glaring up at him.

Naruto shivers with reticence, "But, but…" upon seeing the restraint blooming over Sasuke, he grumbles, "Next time then."

Saying good bye at this point, is asinine—and he watches his kid brother trotting through the gate. The small puffy figure climbs up the little hill, and when Naruto mounts atop the porch, waving an arm, Sasuke waves back.

However, his arm freezes in mid air. Two glinting eyes shine from the kitchen window, watching his every movement. Like glaring headlights flashing at him. A gaze of pitch darkness, with twinkles of mysterious light. Three eyed. Four eyed. Black, dark as...

For a moment, he saw a raven watching from within, soulless like Itachi's gaze.

Shivering, Sasuke rubs his eyes. No, not again. Not again. Seeing a nightmare, an untruth because that's Mizuki? The wife? Almost immediately, the curious stare vanishes from view. And his heart drops, because now they know.

Feels the bag in his hand fall slack to the ground, when he sees her embrace Naruto.

_If Naruto ran away with me..._

Cringes when the door slams shut.

_Would that be selfish too?_

No. They're all wrong. For Naruto needs him, Naruto wants him just as much.

Rooted he is, watching them through the window. Until he can no longer see, when he's stared for so long his peripheries whirl madly; and he rips away.


	4. Dreaming, I was Dreaming

Beta**:** GoodMorningFlower

* * *

><p><em>...because the sound thing to do, is a wretched, immoral thing. Like bugles and drums, his heart screams for a revolution. The fucking of the rest of the world, blares in his mind as he steals Naruto today for himself. To his apartment.<em>

**...**

**Chapter Four**

**Dreaming, I was Dreaming**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Her salmon pink dress, flowing; and her heels clack with promise.

_Tack. Tack._

Pulse races, every step they take. Every other breath whooshes painfully in his throat.

He follows Sakura into and out of an elevator, while the other students watch ignorantly, shuffling with curiosity and practically leaning in anticipation. After all, he is taking the exam in her office and once inside her grand lair, she gestures at a small cubicle. Sterile, empty, white, and blockaded from all sides except for one, it's like a miniature solitary confinement just for him.

She tells him to sit with a twinkling expression dancing on her face. There's no mistaking the imperceptible glint in her eyes, the way the brightness reflects from her spectacles, demanding acknowledgment.

Annoyed, he glances away refusing her.

"Basic rules Uchiha-kun," Sakura explains almost vengefully, as he quietly sits down. "No use of cell-phones, no bathroom breaks, no calculators. There's a formula sheet attached onto the exam, use it."

As soon as she's finished, she winks. "I'll be right here if you have any questions. Good luck." Then she sits at her desk several paces away, going over files.

Sasuke leans back and breathes. He stares at the multiple choice, losing focus mid-way, no longer seeing the black print because he's not ready, not like usual. He's worked on the adoption papers like they've become his bible-his religious holy grail. And he can't veer his thoughts from it, like a chip blaring in his brain; in a word, wholly obsessed.

—_flushed, revealed, and completely open, as inch by inch they share the same breath_.

Back to the first question, Sasuke mulls over each choice. A, b—again, his vision blares out into the thin air. No coffee, not much sleep. He's got to talk with professor Haruno since she's got forms he'll need to provide. His damned employment with her, bordering enslavement, and all the financial aspects to prove he can support another person. Soon.

_Needing him, Naruto needs him like he's everything for him, wanting him, admiring… "Can we—can I…" _Sasuke squeezes his eyes shut. Why is he seeing this again? _"Please?"_

_Should stop this. They're too close. Too close._

_Against the wall. On the bed. Half-asleep in his chair. Weakening without the touch like a wilting plant, decomposing without the caress. Too close. He's holding the heat in his lap, petting, fondling, and worshipping every ounce of the only one he loves. His only one—_

"_One_ hour left," informs Haruno.

Sasuke grips his pen. Need to focus. The questions glare with strict impunity, and numbers come to him like a radio signal. So he circles answers down to the bottom, and flips onto the next page. Three more pages to go. But just when he gets hot in one subject, someone's got to ruin it. Even Naruto, especially Naruto.

_…no, never truly stops. Naruto kisses him, pressing them together in confidence. And _he_ lets._

Burning in embarrassment, he massages a clammy hand over his face. He glances at Sakura, who catches his gaze. She smiles and lights with curiosity like a shimmering twinkle, because whatever sappy expression he's wearing, she assumes it's for her. It kills him. She has no idea. Then she contentedly turns back to her screen. He turns away too.

_…he can't shut the door. Like a brimming room of steam, seeping right under the cracks, that's what sweeps him like a trance—condensing into every part, every corner. Gently, he hooks Naruto closer, anchoring the contact. Takes another step further because he's at his limit…needs Naruto in every way, and he waits and waits, but now, that energizing heat's maddening, and promising._

Sakura coughs.

Startled, Sasuke looks over to her and sees her head's still bent into her work. She types into a laptop, occasionally clearing her throat and shuffling. It was funny how she watches him from her periphery, like she was some sore kid holding a grudge.

_…cups both burning cheeks into his hands, letting the chills defrost and restraint's thinning, melting. Wait, they always wait. The grip at his shirt's weak yet, strong-willed as Naruto gasps clinging tighter, and there's no doubt that his brother's a mirror. A portal to somewhere fantastical. Especially as Sasuke lowers more and more, finding the perfect curve of a pulsing, warm neck._

_Hears the giggling, the laughter. His name's exploding the air like magic firecrackers, and that sound alone satiates._

Mizuki's right. The Director. The damned wife. He's selfish. So selfish. Wants to hear the crying, the laughter, and the whimpers for him. Only for him.

_"Can I do it to you?" comes the question. "Are you ticklish, Sasuke?"_

_Naruto seizes the moment, tip-toeing a little. Bares small canines like a kid vampire ready to sink his teeth in, and for a frozen instant, all the steam whooshes like a violent wind. He's not sure what'll happen if he lets….lets Naruto pour more of that energy into him._

_"Let's see," mumbles Naruto, planting a sopping wet mouth right under the square of his jaw._

Suddenly, his cell vibrates and he must have jumped a mile high. Buzzes like a trapped beetle in his pant pocket.

Sasuke glances furtively to check if Sakura's noticed. However her nose is buried into a computer monitor, and quickly, Sasuke sneaks a hand to unsheathe his phone, just to see who's calling.

His breath hitches. _Naruto_.

Shoving his phone back into obscurity, Sasuke squares his jaw. He could ask Sakura for a break, to take an important call, he could ask her that! But she's so sore with him and she'd dig ambitiously for the whys and whats, and he's better off avoiding her scrutiny. You know there's some touchy subjects, like his little brother, meant to be safe and protected from evil eyes—not that Sakura's evil, but maybe her intentions are. Who knows? You never know. He doesn't trust.

So Naruto's just going to have to wait a damned hour. Despite his resolve though, Naruto keeps calling him. Every vibration rattles his nerves, shaking his concentration like winds to leaves. He rereads the same question over and over again because his eyes roll every time Naruto calls. Frustrated, he clicks his phone shut, extinguishing their connection for this moment.

In twenty minutes, he finishes the exam, gets up, and hands it to Sakura.

She winks at him, for the third time today. "So what does my star pupil think of the test? Everyone complained that I was terribly hard! But I didn't think so. Did you feel that way?" she asks coyly.

In fact, she's a muffled sound to the blaring of his thoughts. Sasuke looks at her without truly looking. Only her silhouette. Her frame. She's blurring because his heart's pounding faintly, and he can't help space out.

"Guess that's your way of keeping neutral, hm? Anyway, well done Uchiha-kun, this does look good," she comments, turning his exam over. "Well done indeed. Expected nothing less of you."

Finally the lens in his eyes focus on her, and yet…he says nothing. He dips his hands into both pockets.

"Didn't I tell you this would all work out? It's just wonderful you didn't drop," she rambles on.

That's when her voice melts, dropping to a low octave. Glossed lips slowly curve into a smirk and his eyes follow the disagreeable curvature of her mouth. She rests her chin upon a hand, brows quirking imperceptibly. Purpose burns at her skin then up to her eyes when she blinks. He sees all this, and pretends to be oblivious.

"Professor," begins Sasuke, pausing because her eyes glisten with loud hope.

"Yes?"

He already sees her expression shatter with disappointment. As always when he's about to change the subject. "I need some documents. For my accountant."

"Ah," she mumbles, shuffling her other arm against the desk. The bracelets around her wrist jingle and clamor slightly at her movement. "So that's it."

"Do you think you'd have them sometime this week?"

That's when Sakura leans back on her leather chair, twiddling her fingers pensively. "I can have them anytime you want Sasuke. Anything for you."

"Thanks. I appreciate..." he trails off, at the way her lips curl, "...it." Her once hopeful smile, turns to a sneer.

In fact, she unequips her glasses. "Listen Sasuke. The truth is, I won't be in the office tomorrow nor for the rest of the week due to a conference meeting upstate." She sees him clench his fists, and softens her voice as to avoid shattering fragile glass, "However, if you truly want them as soon as possible, you may care to stop by my place to pick up the papers. They're very easy to draw up."

His desperation for the papers must have slipped accidently, and she picked up on it like a hound. She's got some vague understanding of the urgency, that he's tethered to a deadline.

"When," he churns out, willing himself as still as possible.

"Tonight. After our lab work, of course."

Her voice of confidence sends tremors of jealousy down his own throat. He has to fake his own confidence, while she on the other hand, wears it like a bejeweled shield.

He makes a sound of affirmation. But as he's about turn away to hide his boiling look of humiliation, her voice reaches over like a hand.

"But could you do me a favor, Sasuke?"

"What?"

There's a long pause. You could tell she's toying with him, and underneath her phony joy, there's hate. Her expressed deliberation as she bites the bottom of her lip, she dismisses, "Ah, you know what it is? I think it's better I wait. Perhaps next time."

You don't need to tell things twice with him, unlike some other people. He rockets for the door. Alas, her remark chases after him, "I'll see you tonight. Feel free to text before then."

Text. His phone. Naruto, incessantly calling him. Now all of it hits him, and he rushes out into the hall. He waits an eternity as his phone gets to home screen. Three missed calls, and a voicemail.

"_Sasuke_," the voicemail plays in his ear, and he notices Naruto's voice shaky, "_'m not going to school. 'M not going back. Running away, like I said I would. Can you pick me up?_"

The world fades into static.

Freezing, the temperature plummets into complete icy hell, yet he's sweating like he's overrun by a fever. Sweats through his shirt in a couple seconds flat, and everything's roaring like white noise, thrumming. He calls back again and again. No answer each time, driving him mad enough into barreling down the corridors.

Then by the time he's outside, he paces around campus like a lost person, like he's never been here before. You'd probably never see him this way again, being young, inexperienced and all. Circles around the same tree, like his body dissolves into a broken game of tug-of-war going this way, going that way, or wait and stay for a call back. People stare, whisper. But for him panic's a broken dam, and he squeezes his temples as if not to lose his head right now. Because he's losing everything else.

Screws shut his eyes and swallows the strangled sounds of pain: the world's grey, then black, thick, and blank as he succumbs to blind helplessness. This doesn't make sense. No one's coming to help, or make sense of this. Not even then, certainly not now. He was begging Itachi, he was so stupid. So weak. He begged the neighbors not to turn them in, because Itachi was coming back. Itachi's a leader, executive, and loyal he'd never leave, but find the answer—

Then like a bulldozer, an idea rolls through the darkness, and Sasuke freezes up. He can do this. He'll just call the phone company, request GPS tracking on his kid brother's phone, and he'll find the coordinates.

Right as he's dialing in the number, his phone goes off vibrating again.

Sasuke clicks it open and demands, "Naruto, where the _hell_ are you?"

He can't even recognize his own voice. Throat's burning, while his ears ring dully. He's so very numb like he's swam from a shipwreck, scarcely making it to shore. And the one sole tree on campus, becomes the steady pillar of support in his hand: hard bark splintering his palms.

"Hello? Is this Sasuke Uchiha_?_" asks a smooth baritone through the speakers.

You could have believed it was the most charming radio voice you've heard, and it could have been God answering for all that matters. Still Sasuke'd bristle with agonizing distrust, and fear.

Sasuke crushes the phone in his hand, just as his restraints snap. "Yes. Who is this?"

"Found this kid lost in town, and I offered to take him to lunch with me. Figured he ran away from home," says the man on the other end. "I've got to get back to work soon_._"

"Where? Where are you?"

"West 14th, across from the Sprinkles bakery where I found your kid."

Winded. Sasuke breathes in too quickly. Resurgence—lightning—down to every tendon and ligament. Like gun fire exploding in his muscles, he darts forward. Naruto's a couple streets away. He runs faster. Hair's getting in his face, and his mouth dries painfully, as Sasuke's arms swing forward building momentum. Gasps erupt like cackling flames from the crowd he cuts through. He sprints in front of moving cars because he's determined to get across, scarcely dodging the fate of road kill.

_Skrriiiiiiiiiiid!_ Cars swerve in jerk reactions, honking and grinding horribly against the road, all to avoid colliding into him.

Despite the angry shouts of drivers, and the wailing sirens chasing after him, Sasuke rounds the corner. His clammy hands dip for the phone, and he presses the speaker shakily to his ears. He calls, again and again. Every ring unanswered, his heart pounds, thrumming a dull sound in his ears.

"Hey," answers the voice on the other end.

Sasuke breathes into the microphone, "I'm in front, and I don't see you."

"Well I'm inside the bar across the street, that's why." The voice's nice, not mean at all. It could have been easily a wise-guy sound, but it wasn't.

"Bar," he echoes back. Someone would take his kid brother into some bar?

"Yeah, directly across. You'll find me sitting in the front."

He sees this so called bar. Relief swamps him when he reads 'Ramen' written on the store front. In a flash he's on the other side of the crosswalk, like he's teleported, this time the cars don't run him over. Although, stepping through those glass doors, he doesn't know what to expect. Who's got his brother, what they've said, how they appear. But at once, he sees them—as Sasuke enters the darkly lit restaurant.

Instantly, as if he could sense Naruto blindly, he hones in. Soaking up the sight of Naruto's profile underneath the warm, decorative lantern light. Like he's watching a projection of divine dispensation, the liveliness and every breath Naruto takes, that's a breath inside him too, healing him. Sees the small form perched on a high rise stool, sitting alongside with that stranger.

Sitting too close. Too closely.

At that, he rockets in between. Before his brother could even notice, Sasuke sits on a stool right next to him, wobbling at the last second since adrenaline's still waning. But not before wrapping an arm around Naruto as if this single touch is enough to assess. As if intimate knowledge passes between their bodies, without sign or word. Yet as he protectively presses them together, Naruto says nothing, which is so unusual, which is so very contrary to the usual talkative nature. And when he asks what happened, Naruto hugs his side, nuzzles, and silently shakes his head.

It's that moment, the stranger puts out his hand, "Name's Kakashi, nice to meet you."

A very westernized gesture. Sasuke shakes the hand, which is larger than his own. "Thank you for watching him," he says lowly, fixing a discerning stare.

_Him_. Like a bolt of lightning, Sasuke stiffens, ripping his hand away. _This man _saved his life. He feels it in the touch. All familiar facial features now revive in his memory by this man's grip—the same grip which saved him from perdition. On that day on the crosswalks, only one person reached out and pulled him away from the line of traffic. Kakashi. Kakashi, he won't ever forget this name.

_He…doesn't remember me_. Two years ago, almost two years since then.

"I actually had a good time with this one. Though he says you're his father, you look too young."

Sasuke glares at the skinny arms hugging his side to death. Before leveling a cool stare, "Because I'm his brother."

"Ah, that explains it," muses Kakashi, packing his bag over the shoulder. "Anyway I have an appointment with a patient, and I'll need to get back to my office."

As the man's leaving, Sasuke gets up and calls out, "Thank you again," he says, and means it. Really. "I appreciate your help."

Kakashi turns, smiling, and waves his hand casually. "Later, Sasuke."

The informality startles him, but he bets Naruto's opened his big mouth and poured their back story like an audio book. As he turns back to Naruto, he finds his brother giving him googly eyes. Big sparkling innocent orbs. But Sasuke's immune, a steel wall. For all the curiosity and worry which moments ago possessed him, suddenly drops to anger.

"Are you done?" Sasuke bites out, eyeing the rather empty bowl.

"Yes."

"Then let's go," he demands, holding out his hand, to which Naruto happily gives.

As soon as they dart out, Sasuke has to swallow the bubbling anger. Itachi was always patient, always calm: yet, he never pulled idiotic, dangerous stunts to trigger a reaction from Itachi, never gave his older brother a real reason to worry. While Naruto on the other hand, goes into the city without supervision and even skips school like a delinquent child.

_Disobeying me_, Sasuke seethes, _because of _them. All of them. His vision's swimming in rose tinted lens, and all the parasitic worry eating at his colon morphs into a hatred like a revolting nest of larvae wiggling for release. For Mizuki, for his wife, the Director. Himself, the most. And as he decomposes, his walls crack open.

"Why?" With all this possessive hatred he barely compresses out one word. And it smokes the cold air.

For a frozen instant, Naruto blinks, before shaking his head. "I wanna be with you." Brows quiver in contemplation. "That's it. Wanna be with you."

"But after school we were going to see each other. I was going to pick you up."

"So? Now I'm picking _you_ up," comes the retort.

He clenches the hand painfully. "You're really unbelievable. An unbelievable idiot."

"But see? I can do anything, I told you. Now we can do anything we want!"

Something snaps. And he nearly flings his kid brother to a wall. Instead he violently brings them to a halt. "What did you do? _What did they do?_ Naruto, I need to know why you ran away, _right now_!"

People flit by, looking at them curiously.

Naruto smiles nervously. Sheepishly. Even rubs his neck. "Just gave 'em what they deserved, S'uke. They're strangers, like you said. And," upon the narrowing slits and furious gaze aimed his way, Naruto stammers off with desperate justifications, "they always say bad things about you! I can't let them do that."

"And to you?" hisses Sasuke, wrenching tighter. "They don't hurt you?"

"I, I…what? No. Just don't make me go back there," Naruto stammers, clawing at his whole arm instead of just his hand. "Please. I miss you."

He hears the fear in the high-pitched voice, almost drowns in it. And at the last moment, Sasuke veers them away from the metro because the sound thing to do, is a wretched, immoral thing. Like bugles and drums, his heart screams for a revolution. The fucking of the rest of the world, blares in his mind as he steals Naruto today for himself. To his apartment.

His building's three streets away, adjacent to his University. As he checks into the lobby, the doorman greets them, eyeing Naruto with delight. "Oh is that your baby brother? He's adorable!" cheers the young man, waving.

Admiring the uniformed man, Naruto waves back but furrows his brow. "I'm not cute," he huffs, but when Sasuke tugs at him, he goes back to waving. "Bye, bye!"

When the elevators close in on them, Sasuke snaps his gaze up at the camera in the upper corner. Reflecting and watching like a black eyeball. Someone's watching, somewhere. He steels up as waves of nausea hit him. Instinctively, he clamps Naruto's hand for support.

"One day," announces Naruto, stretching his free hand as high up as possible, "I'll reach that button."

The penthouse floor, number twenty four. However, Naruto's fingers scarcely graze over the middle set of buttons, only reaching as far the number ten. For a split second, he imagines. Hallucinates vividly like a broken scene of film, watching the dainty arm lengthen, becoming stronger like a fostered flower. Naruto could reach terrifying heights—would grow stronger. Stronger than him and then leave like the wind…like Itachi.

"No," breathes Sasuke.

"No?"

What is he saying? "I—I…I mean…"

"Tch! I'm gonna be taller than you Sasuke, just wait!" promises Naruto, shaking his fist. "And 'm gonna reach that twenty fourth button, and then that black thing up there!"

They both scoff in unison.

Tethered together, Sasuke leads them out and into a carpeted hallway. Almost shivers as he passes the '_Floor Eleven' _sign because every night upon passing it, he dreamt of taking Naruto home. Now the experience is surreal, practically like he's viewing the whole world upside down, and his own heart's hanging out of place. And he's turning his keys, taking Naruto inside...he's…dreaming.

"Wow!" Naruto jumps ahead of him, running around manically. "You live here?"

The boisterous noise bounces harshly in his empty apartment. However the happy sound loses momentum through the quick echoes. He's confused. What is he doing? Did he really bring Naruto here to this sham of a place? Quickly, he grapples any solid edge he could, before he sinks to the hollow of his gut. Naruto…hates it. Barely furnished, and modern, this place's the complete opposite to their once beautiful, countryside family home.

Sasuke flings the keys aside, and looks away. Worked as hard as livestock to get this shabby place on his name, and he brings the most beautiful person alive to a garbage dump. He's laughing, because Naruto thinks so highly of him, looks up to him, and it's so funny, so very funny he's failed so hard…

"This is what I could afford," he drawls, as if each word's rotting in his mouth, "and living in the city is ten times more expensive than—"

"Can I stay?"

The question surprises him because it's laced with adoration, like drizzled sugar powder he could taste the sweet affection. And he opens his mouth to say _of course idiot_, but stops short. Naruto's not supposed to be here yet because by law, he's kidnapped his own brother. Bitter burnt crisps replace the sweetness in his mouth. He says nothing to Naruto, rubs his temples, and points to a chair by the window: rickety, weak chairs because he's still to buy a couch, and they sit vis-à-vis.

Naruto sits and folds his small hands over his lap, lengthening his neck. Mocking goody two shoes. "Yes Sas'kay?"

The widening shimmering portals of blue are almost impossible to fight. Almost. In fact, his breathing slows as he resists the warmth.

He shifts around against the innocence radiating like fumes, and the long inhale he takes smears his lungs like mint, burning and tingling.

"Why?" he grinds out again, he needs the truth, he needs his hatred to hone in, "Forty days left, Naruto. Why run away now?"

Giving a shit-eating grin, Naruto kicks his feet up. "Don't like school."

"You're lying to me," his fists ball at his sides, "I want the truth."

"I...I'm not lying!"

"So you ran away for nothing, is that it? I'm supposed to believe that?"

Naruto's brow twitches and he's clutching his side of the table. "I just didn't wanna go today, okay? I wanna be with you."

That's when all imprisoned anger erupts like lava. Fire. And not even Sasuke's used to it, because his own voice quivers. "Don't you know how stupid you are?" The table's flying to the side, clamoring to the ground. "You could have been taken. _Kidnapped_. Ran over by a crazy driver. _And_ _then what would I have done_? What would I do?"

Naruto puts his hands out. "But 'm here. See? Nothing happened!"

"How. _How_ did you even pay for the metro?"

"I..." Naruto bristles as if the words he's about to say will mean death, "I saved my lunch money, alright? And I asked the bus driver how to get here too. Told him about the Sprinkles bakery, 'member? Gave him a nickel for some information, and he told me which bus to take and where."

Sasuke lets out a breath he's been holding, and it whooshes out like he's been punched. Instead he grits out, "I want to know what's going in that head of yours," to which Naruto looks away frightened, "That you don't ask me first. Why you didn't tell me this grand idiot plan of yours?"

"Because...because you'd say no."

"You ask me anyway!"

That's when, hopping out of his chair, Naruto launches onto his lap. The small body sprawls over him, fists onto his pants, and pleads like a screeching kitten, "Why are you so unfair, huh? Because you don't miss me, is that it? You don't miss me anymore!"

Is that what this is about? "Naruto—"

"I wanted to pick you up, just like you do for me," growls Naruto, as if the confession rips from the heart, "So you won't forget about me. But you don't ever talk to me like you used to! Like about the kinda house we'll be in. Like when we imagine stuff together, you know, you stopped! And you don't dream about it anymore...not with me."

Instinctively, his hand pets as if the need to assure is hardwired, he can't help or even stop his absent-minded stroking. "Why talk about it?" he deadpans, "Look, I've already bought the house. Everything we dreamed about is coming true."

"Is it really?"

He clenches his teeth in pain. Because he's not there to protect, not there to shield, and everyone's an animal. But Naruto…is the only other human being he sees.

Pulls them into an embrace, and at once, breathes in the smell of shampooed hair. And the scent of Naruto's candied breath's like a wind from a foreign beautiful place, he can't get enough, absorbing the breeze was like standing atop a hill. Overlooking everything, even into the far gloomy, cloudy distance, he could breathe in Naruto's scent and feel on top of the whole grassy plains, purifying him.

And slowly the deep well of hatred inside him topples upside down, pouring itself empty, draining away. Wetness burns his eyes. Finding release through the tear ducts he's long taped shut. He holds tighter, and buries deeper into the fair mess of hair. And how perfect of a maneuver it was to embrace tightly, he's so relieved his face is hidden.

"Tell me what happened," he demands.

"I just…keep making her cry. She's even worse than the crybaby Konohamaru in our class," admits Naruto, while hugging him tightly round the neck, "then she takes away TV. Says if I do chores, I can get it back but she never gives it back. She's a liar!"

His heart pounds so loudly, and Sasuke congratulates himself for the steadiness in his voice. "So you're saying you want to go to another foster home?"

Like the words were magical, Naruto nods. "Yeah! I want TV back, is that so bad? I already missed four episodes of _The Gutsy Ninja_."

"But we don't know where you'll end up, Naruto," Sasuke mutters, catching the frozen panic in his brother's eyes, "Worse or better, do you want to risk it? Over television? Especially when we finally have this arrangement."

Naruto has second thoughts, eyes screwing shut in regret. "No, nevermind!" Until finally they flutter open again. "When you put it that way…you're right I _am_ a dummy."

They sit silently, still locked into each other. The _kawing_ of the crows from outside, over the noise of the city sweeps their quietude.

Until finally having mulled over, Sasuke asks, "Do they think you're in school right now?"

"Yeah. But if I come back, I'm gonna be in huge trouble." Hesitation, as Naruto mentally debates till at last he confesses, "I covered all the toilet seats with plastic wrap. I put their mail where they won't find it. Ever. And a banana in her car hole," feels Sasuke stiffen, and continues anyway, "I poured all the milk out. And I told everyone at school to call her cell number. Said her name's jelly donut, and to leave a voicemail."

"_Naruto_," growls Sasuke, wrenching his kid brother to an arm's length apart.

Mocking the ferocity, Naruto says, "_Sasuke_."

"Don't do that."

"_Don't do that_," comes the mimicking tone and expression.

"Naruto, this is serious. Don't even start that game with me."

Naruto copies the very angle of his brows. "_Naruto, this is serious_. _Don't even start that game with—"_

"You put yourself into trouble like this, and expect me to shrug it off?"

"_…expect me to shrug it off?_" Naruto huffs out, crossing his arms just the way Sasuke does.

"You moron," grates Sasuke, offering bait.

But instead, the small pouting lips curl into a sneer. "_You moron."_

"Okay," he dismisses, pushing his kid brother off his lap. "Get out."

"_Okay, get out_!"

"You're annoying me."

"_Annoying me_."

Sasuke turns away, as his mouth flattens into a line. But Naruto follows, carefully waits for the next sentence or phrase to copy. They both trail into the kitchen, like a mother duck with persistent kids imprinting every movement.

"I think," begins Sasuke, who hears his echo as the high-pitched voice mimics his words, "I'm stupid."

Stopping so suddenly, nearly tripping, Naruto stammers. "_I'm…stupid._"

"And I smell," adds Sasuke, pouring juice into a glass.

"_And I—I smell,_" grates out Naruto, wrinkling his nose, as if silently damning Sasuke for the dirty counter.

"And I'll never win against Sasuke," murmurs he, before sipping on his drink.

That's when Naruto jumps up and jabs two fingers forward. "_And I'll never—_okay, no I won't admit to that!"

Silently, Sasuke pours juice into a colorful translucent cup. "Here," he hands it to his kid brother, who's emblazoned with defiance. "Drink."

After a long moment of consideration, Naruto accepts truce and sips cautiously. Although upon a first taste, he ends up gulping down the whole delicious liquid, and then wipes his mouth with a flick of pleasure. He hands Sasuke the empty glass. "That's my favorite flavor. Orange."

"I know," says Sasuke, voice distant.

Out of curiosity, Naruto wiggles past him, excitedly, swinging open the refrigerator. And lo and behold…glaring back are empty, white sterile racks. So barren that it jolts Naruto to let go instantly. In horror, Naruto stares until the door clicks shut on its own, putting out the horrendous sight of emptiness.

Looking up with widened eyes, Naruto asks, "How come…there's so little inside?"

"I'm not hungry like you," he murmurs.

"Wait. How? Everyone's hungry." To which Sasuke only looks at him with boredom. "There's just juice and cabbage. _Gross_, cabbage!"

"Don't worry. When you come in the next month, I'll fill the fridge up."

Naruto nearly squeezes out his own hair. "But I don't get how someone can't be hungry. I don't get it!"

Without another word, he slips past. But Naruto reflexively latches a tight hold onto his sleeve, anchoring him. Annoyed, he glances down and finds Naruto frowning up at him, eyes wavering in confusion.

"Is it so hard to believe that not everyone has your appetite, moron? Besides," he mutters, rolling his eyes, "you know how I am."

Before Naruto can respond, Sasuke pries off their connection and ghosts his way into the bedroom. Like lightning, Naruto chases after him, darting so quickly that he nearly slips and falls when he stops suddenly.

There's no bed. Just a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor. A matt too.

Sasuke chuckles dryly, because they both will fill this room soon. "I'm going to order two beds later this week. You like ninjas right?"

"Yeah and bicycles," adds Naruto, breathless, "But…don't change the subject. You hear? Stop runnin' away from me, because I won't let you."

Hearing his little brother chirp angrily, for attention is a portrait he's all too familiar with. That's him ten years ago, asking Itachi to explain. Asking Itachi to face him. The parallel is so strong, his mouth bleeds. Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek. Now he's swallowing the copper taste down.

"Will you listen to me!" growls Naruto, pinching at his sides, pulling at his leg. "Don't ignore or change the subject!"

"Food doesn't entice me, don't you get it? I have nobody to eat with, so I forget."

Naruto's eyes thin in suspicion, then roars like a lion, "You're the idiot! Because I don't believe you. You're lying right?"

He only pets the blond hair, without adding any more explanation.

"Sasuke, you're lying, right?"

The desperation, the bewilderment, reaching out to him like a hand. Hooking, reeling him closer and closer until Sasuke has his brother against the wall. The whole time, their eyes search each other, with Naruto's oceans of blue panicking in a storm—begging in complete bewilderment. And he presses Naruto's frail shoulders, binding him completely still as he lowers his face. Now this beautiful innocent expression takes up his whole view, and he immerses into it.

_Too close_, and his heart booms. But a taste, he's sure, that's all.

Flushing, Naruto lowers his face, hiding his eyes. "You say I'm unbelievable. But you're…you're the unbelievable one."

"Look at me," he demands, to which Naruto snaps his gaze back to attention, "Don't make a big deal out of this."

"Tch!"

He doesn't let Naruto look away, gripping tight enough to signal his need. "It's difficult for me, Naruto. When…you're not around."

"Doesn't mean you stop eating! It's not good for you," comes the snippy growl.

_A little closer, _Sasuke swallows. Feeling the angry puffs of air, their foreheads connect, as he leans that much more forward. Is he dreaming again? He's dreaming…again.

"Tell me again, Naruto," he prompts, their mouths a breath apart, "what you want to do when you grow up. You said we stopped talking about the future."

A smile cracks, and blooms in his whole vision like a new world forming all around them. "Fine. Well, first of all obviously 'm gonna rule the school and tell all the teachers to leave the kids alone! I'll be so scary and powerful they'll have to listen. Oh and I'm gonna have a big house where all the homeless animals will be able to sleep in and I'll take care of them all."

"All the homeless animals in the world?"

"Of course, all of them. And you'll help me right?" suddenly there's a a whole new wind, because Naruto takes his hand, "Then we can marry, and have our own house too."

Stupid, inappropriate, and he says something which dies half way. The words are muted. The hollow inside of him, needing to be filled, is a powerful vacuum. Only Naruto could fill this clawing void, and he can't understand anything. Nothing makes sense and he chokes on the unsaid, because-

At that instant, Naruto finally leans up. What he himself was so close to capturing, so hesitant to claim, Naruto instead seizes the moment. Their lips brush, with Naruto blowing air into his mouth, even mumbling, "I love you." And he's gone so long without the taste that Sasuke heats up instead of breaking apart. Like a statue, he's frozen as Naruto nips around his mouth, smiling in triumph.

_This taste_, this sip. He can hear his own restraint snap like bands. Sends shivers up his spine, and he tightens his hold so much causing flustered noises to escape Naruto's puckered mouth.

And that's when, in the midst of an array of Naruto's kisses, Sasuke rips away, completely untangles before he can unleash. "Listen to yourself, you're worse than I thought." _Excited_, feeling so very excited, and he sputters anything to fend off the guilt, "you don't do that again, because I said not to didn't I, you moron."

Naruto grins, putting up his hands in a universal gesture that says, 'I'm innocent'. "You'll be the best wife ever, the bestest. Right?"

He shouldn't be this excited. "Oi, Naruto," he intones, wisps of fire seething, "the joke's finished."

"Tch. Who said I was joking?" quips the other, crossing his arms, before another inspiring idea strikes him, "Hey. Can we have bunk beds like before? Remember? I'll be top, you be bottom!"

They need to leave. He's afraid, tremors roll through him. Opened some box, turned the key to a wrong door, and he's treading a tight rope like one more trigger and he'll lose _it_.

"We have to go," he says, checking his watch to emphasize. "We only have an hour before they'll start to wonder where you are."

"But I have a better plan."

The word no's muted. He feels icy fear in his fingertips, but what the fuck is he afraid of? This is insane. Makes no sense, as the universe tilts and topples. Like he really is standing on the edge of a cliff, hand in hand with Naruto, who'd jump with him.

Naruto flashes a brilliant smile. "We should stay here 'n think about how we'll decorate this room, because it'll be ours right?"

Freezes when Naruto hovers from corner to corner in the barren bedroom.

"Here, we can put a bunch of books. The Gutsy Ninja right on top." Darting over to the window, Naruto gasps at the view, "And over here we can put a telescope and look at the stars, we can find all the constipations up in—"

"_Constellations_, moron."

"Yeah that's what I said! Jerk." And Naruto really gets into the dream, because he pats the empty corners and walls, "We can paint these walls together, that'd be so cool."

He thought he'd lost his voice. But when Naruto finally glances at him expectantly, Sasuke snaps, "No. Absolutely not. I wouldn't let us ruin the first house we have together. You and I'd just take something neat and mess it all up."

"Who cares about neat? It's ours. And we can draw on it how we wanna."

He shoves Naruto. "What makes you think I'll let you? Let you do whatever you want?"

"Because you love me, you said so!"

Before he can volley back, Naruto shoves him hard.

Agile as a tiger, Sasuke smacks away another attempted assault. Catches a tight hold of the offending arm. This fuels a sudden spike—as energy whips at him in the form of a swift kick. Naruto aims right for his shin. However Sasuke has the other pinned to a wall before another kick could be dispatched.

"Stop."

Naruto struggles, panting. "You started it."

"I let you win too much," he says, voice husky with exhaustion.

A gasp of surprise before Naruto squirms violently, "That's not true. I win fair and square. Win on my own!"

One tight twist of an arm, and Sasuke binds Naruto flat and immobile against the wall. Haggard breaths huff and mingle in the scant space between them. He sees a look of pained defeat crush over Naruto, and he softens.

Even loosens his grip, as he tips his face lower. "If we had bunk beds again," dead silence till he continues, "I'd be top. You'd be bottom. Get it?"

An embarrassing flush overtakes the cheeky expression. However, the moment he lets go is the moment Naruto snatches the hems of his sweater.

"For now," cries out Naruto, "that's 'cos you're bigger. But 'm gonna grow up so then I can fight for the top level, 'n reach all the buttons."

What happens next, even _he _can't keep up. Slams Naruto back against the wall, earning a dull _thud_ and a yelp of pain. This is a dream, he's not letting it go. Not letting an opportunity turn to blackened shams. Like that day Itachi left him, and never came back—this could be the realm where things are so different…could be so different like a complete parallel universe: and this dream's the wormhole, in which Naruto's that portal.

"Hey jerk—ah! What are you doin'? "

Dream, dreaming. He pins both skinny arms above a blond head, stretching out the neck he's tasted earlier. He swoops down, kissing that same spot, more confidently. Almost immediately, Naruto starts shaking in laughter, nearly crying in bemusement. Feels every rattle and vibration transmit into his bones like the dreams he always have, filling him with steam, with such heat—

_And if this is real_?

A deep strangled noise escapes him. And upon hearing his own desperation, Sasuke screws his eyes tighter, because that sound's horrible—the sound of him wanting Naruto to this point, the desire veering him to this like a chokehold. However, the giggling erupting in the air deluges everything but the love and desire: this complete obsessive need. He kisses a trail from the throbbing pulse in the neck, up to the little imperceptible apples of the throat, and he does so slowly as if to savor the sensations. Worshipping every inch, adoring every single hackle raised—and Naruto revels in this attention, practically quakes in pleasure as if showered in radiating, defrosting light. Goosebumps, the both of them.

"Sasuke, this is torture," cries out Naruto in between chortles, still bound to the wall.

The laughter and shaking provide such steady flow of heat, like warm sand beneath his fingers. Like heat's fluid as he brushes through the wild blond hair, each thread of gold fisting in his hands empowers. He casts aside the sticky fringes matting Naruto's forehead, and plants another kiss. Right on the same area Itachi always poked him dismissively, before always turning away—he kisses this spot, and more. Because his heart's drumming, maddening, and he can recreate…

Suddenly, there's something he has to share, and his mouth gravitates to Naruto's ear. He breathes for moments, considering. Words could never describe the feeling, the experience, and he kisses instead. Naruto quivers, reacting to the sensitive spot. Gasps, twitters of excitement, and Naruto's shaky breaths all roll over to him like stormy winds, blowing, awakening, and Sasuke loses ground gradually.

Vanishing, the feeling of the earth below. As if they stand in their own pool of rippling water, excitement and change whirling around their feet. No, they're _standing by the lake, _watching boats and planes, and the white clouds trekking above, together with Naruto, with Itachi watching. _Sun's sweating_, and the scent of pine, the trees—he feels this with his tongue and teeth along Naruto's burning skin.

Stiffening up, Naruto stammers out, "Am I in trouble?"

"_No_."

"But, but…you just bit me, Sasuke."

He runs a warm tongue over the hurt, and then there was a long kiss, chaste being a remote part of it.

Two times, he hears his name, thrown in the cackles of Naruto's fiery bouts of laughs. He shivers so much that he's cold again. Burned out, he snaps his grip open, freeing Naruto. He leans against the wall right beside. Palms flat underneath him, he scarcely feels the pressure or gravity anymore. Stays still so the spinning could stop, and waits for focus to swarm back.

What has he done?

In the whole while, Naruto hugs at his side, mumbling into the hems of his sweater, "You're hungry. That's why you keep eating me, Sasuke. I knew it."


	5. Just a Game

Beta: GoodMorningFlower

* * *

><p><em>They<em>_ just fit too perfectly. Two broken cookie pieces fixed together, meant to be whole. Like in his dreams, like ripples of water adding to great waves. And he had the power to break away, keep them apart—except now, how can he?_

**...**

**Chapter Five**

**Just a Game**

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.

.

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Same exact…everything, you wouldn't believe it. Leave a room unattended for decades, and when finally coming back, you'd expect it in ruins. That's just a law of nature, dust ought to sit thicker or something.

Except this wasn't just any old room—and he's only been gone two years, not twenty. Still though, Sasuke frets at the lip. Every damned tile's aligned precisely as before; not just that, but the same books line the same shelves, not one misplaced. Then just as he runs a finger along the spines, a quaint smell hits his nose.

And that's when he notices _almost_, everything as was. Almost. But not quite.

Sasuke sucks in a breath, daring to cross the office. As if he owns this space. And he sets the curtains aside, letting in the light. Blinding grey swarms his vision, even laves him in dull light, just as always, and he sort of sighs in relief.

Yet the scent of change he can smell, and it wasn't perfume, and it wasn't anything distinct: the whole smell drives him mad, but from whence?

"Have a seat will you," demands the faint voice of the Director. You could hear her all sore.

You could also tell she wants to get this over with. But Sasuke stands like a sentinel by the window, looking out. It was funny, really. He's laughing in fact. Old Director, poor old Director, she's glaring into his back, man he could feel her really dig in. His nerves are numbed though.

The Director, she's something alright. Not too hot for her though. She's withering even this second as every cadence of her speech shakes, like the rattling sound of a broken flute. And he's got gooseflesh just looking at her, let alone hearing her. In fact she'd make a terrific museum exhibit, as some collection of bones—he feels sorry. Scarcely recognizes her anymore, and that depresses him, he doesn't know why.

"Or are you so nervous, Sasuke?" snarky, deep, and penetrating like shark teeth, she rips at him. "Look. You can't even sit and behave properly."

Glancing over his shoulder, he meets her gaze, her eyes hooded with drooping lids. Why he smiles, he's not sure. But when he does, her scowl deepens more like his happiness bothers her. She has no idea.

"I have absolutely nothing to be nervous about," he comments airily, and she's impressed at his suave counter. Before supplementing with a seductive, "But for old time's sake, I'll sit."

Old times, his ass. He's being god damned phony, and a terrific liar. He's scared of rejection, but that's the thing. He's a fantastic negotiator, and hard to resist, Itachi always told him that, just he never believed. To be honest, he still doesn't.

When he lowers into the wooden chair, jolts of fire run up his neck. Breath after breath, he sinks more and more into the seat of judgment. Her gaze burns his flesh as now she melds with the scrutiny of the past. Two. Three. Eight copies of her saying he's not good enough, he's dysfunctional, he's wrong, he's not ready, itching, raking his skin.

And yet, the thick stench of change pulls him forward. What the hell was it?

Couldn't ignore the incense, and somehow it was drugging him. His heartbeat's so loud, he checks in a panic to see if the windows are vibrating out of control, about to shatter. But just then, his fingers curl and twitch—reflexively. His hand bends like a puppeteer's playing the strings. And somehow afterwards, he feels more in control. Normal again.

"Go ahead, and do your part," he tells her, but suave, just as before.

She smiles faintly, skimming through a packet of papers. "Well. Let's see."

Each rustle of the papers, his heart flutters. Man, she has no damned idea. Her bony fingers splay over the sheets, flicking one after another, each a page of his life, turning a chapter of _his past_ right in her hands.

"Yes. This does it. Thank you for bringing the final forms," she says at last, voice creaking under the intensity of his gaze, "Congratulations, Sasuke."

Those same words, in this same office, in her same Puritan skirt and blouse, all feeling as was in the past. Like reliving a dream, a perfect spitting copy.

But one, one singular detail felt so out of place.

"Something's different about you," she remarks casually, setting the papers down, and folding her hands.

"Me?"

"Your air."

The air. That was funny, it really was. Maybe she's smelling the stench too—but his air? Coming from him? He scoffs and without meaning to, gets excited; but he was just nervous, so he laughs too. Old Director really shoots the crap, a terrific conversationalist.

"As if you're…" she trails away in whisper, looking aside in frozen calculation, "weighed down immensely. Guilt, perhaps."

His blood curls to a stop. Because her eyes—moments ago, normal and old—suddenly twinkles with this demonic edge. And her nose, once flat, points at him accusingly like a crow's beak, you couldn't even imagine, then her black beady gaze narrows, peering through him—omniscient, like Itachi. And her gaunt cheekbones flaring and unforgiving, he's sure he jumps a mile out of his chair.

And as he clenches his side of her desk, that's when dark shadows flit in the peripheries.

Sasuke whips to catch the movement—but alas finds the space empty, except for them. Even the window reveals nothing except for a long winding road and a grey skyline. He's seeing unreal, terrible nightmares fuse and come to life. He hasn't slept for weeks. That must be it.

Swallowing, he turns back to her.

"Of course, I digress," she says, laughs like the ravens' squawking outside, "Because now the process is finalized. So you have the complete go ahead."

Disoriented, he shoots up. He's not seeing straight, this isn't right. He's bent badly. Showed up like a screwball for another important interview—he's going to lose the pillar of his life, the Pisa's going to god damned fall at last. And he has to leave, before she notices.

"Sasuke," and he comes to a violent halt, because she's noticed hasn't she, "Every couple of months for the first year we send in social workers to check up on the home life. All visits are announced, standard procedure."

In that moment, he stills to the bone.

"Just when I thought I'd never have to deal with you again," he sneers, but most of the malice evaporates.

"Not just yet."

"Is that all?"

When he sizes her up this time round, he sees the Director's frail old state again. Not a wretched fowl, but human.

The Director stands, and bows slightly. "I wish you good luck. And that we never cross paths again."

Without offering obeisance or returning her smile, he agrees simply, "We won't."

When he closes the door behind him, he opens a new one.

**.**

**.**

**.**

…opening the door to his apartment with Naruto clutching at his leg. The keys jingle like bells, and he casts aside all but Naruto's hands.

"And this is my section, okay?" marking lines along tiled hall, Naruto crawls on the floor, "If you cross the line, you're entering my village, okay Sasuke?"

The whole space is theirs. For the first time in four years: home. Touches the walls again, in disbelief. All four corners, really theirs.

"Stop, hey. Sasuke you just crossed the line!"

"Who knew," Sasuke remarks, to himself, "you'd be so territorial."

Naruto glares up at him, waving the pencil in emphasis. "Now you're gonna get it. Warned you. But you didn't know I hired elite ninjas—the most scariest ninja to protect the village. And now you crossed the line!"

After playing the speech, Naruto shoots up and assumes a new role, pretending to be the said ninja. Too much television, he could tell it was the _Gutsy Ninja_'s influence. And he's not in the mood to play along. You got to be in the mood for these things, you just had to.

"If you wanna get past," dares Naruto, fighting the smile off, playing as serious as can be, "you gotta defeat me, Sasuke. And if you lose, we'll—"

Mid speech, Sasuke pummels the boy into the wall, knocking him completely off balance. He almost felt sorry.

"Ow. That hurt—sheesh," yelps Naruto, recovering only seconds after.

As if nothing at all happened, Sasuke slips past. "You lost, moron," he says, still feeling a little sorry, "now go unpack."

Huffing, though nonetheless determined, Naruto unpacks everything. Toys to clothes, to toothbrush, to absolutely everything, and each object radiates light like little bulbs of heat. Naruto's trinkets decorates the nightstands, lines up the top of the television, and the porcelain tub's edges, by the windows.

_I want to know_…

"Come here, dummy," Sasuke commands, seeing the ruffled feathers stand on end at the nickname.

Stomping forward, Naruto bites out, "What!"

"If I lost," he starts, but suddenly his mouth his dry, and he swallows, "what were you planning?"

At once Naruto sits with him on the edge of the bed. "Because you'll just say no, Sasuke…"

"Say no to what?"

A very, very mischievous grin breaks loose. "Why are you asking huh? 'Cos you'll do what I say?"

"Curious. That's all," he's quick to defend.

"I'll tell you then."

Naruto takes his hand, dragging them to lie flat on their backs.

Both stare up at the ceiling, in silence, until Naruto explains, "We take a picture together, right? Maybe in front of a snowman we build, or somethin', anywhere, you know? But you hafta smile, you gotta promise me that. No grinchy-grinch S'uke in the photo. And…"

Their heads turn, and their eyes meet, falling into perfect clashing and collision.

"And?" he prompts, squeezing their hands in emphasis.

"We hang it up on that wall," finishes Naruto, smile bleeding from the heart, "Hang up the picture by the door. So when people come, they know it's our village."

They feel the same.

Maybe, he thinks, they are the same.

And they probably lied on the bed like that, hands interlocked and all for a good hour. The ceiling's the sky and they pretty much star gazed, but you know, without the stars in view—just a plain old white ceiling.

Though the real punch line here's they shared the same imaginary plane, like they were watching the same planetarium show side by side, it was unreal. For example. Naruto'd say something about a beach, and they'd see the same waves of an ocean, and Sasuke'd say something about a farm, just for kicks, and Naruto could point out exactly what animals would be grazing in this farm. Like their souls, their eyes, saw the same god damned thing. It was crazy.

But they couldn't just sit like that forever. When the hour strikes five, Sasuke rummages through the kitchen. He wanted to prepare, believe it, he had a grocery list meant for a prince's kitchen. Problem was, he just had no time. In between work and class and then getting all the paperwork done—getting stocked up on groceries was the last bit of attention he could afford.

He feels so damn sorry for it, too. He promised Naruto the fridge would be full, but it was emptier than ever.

There's still hope though, so he calls out, "Naruto, what do you want to eat?"

The sounds of fast, forceful footsteps reach his ears. Before Naruto enters the narrow kitchen, and you should have seen the kid, acting all coolly: arms crossed, and leaning on the frame of the entry. Naruto's a natural leader, he could tell, and teachers told him that too. He could tell Naruto already knew exactly what he wanted, but kids—no matter how damned confident they were—had this insurmountable shyness, especially around older people.

"Um, um. What can I have?"

He lists the options, to which Naruto neither nods nor approves.

Sasuke shuts a few cupboards, before sending a pensive look. "You're not hungry?"

"Um," now Naruto plays all shy, averting his glittering eyes, "I really want the pudding you have in the fridge. Can I have it?"

For a frozen instant, Sasuke's eyes widen slightly. So that's it, huh, and he knew it'd be something ridiculous too. You just knew with Naruto.

"Pudding," he echoes, as the TV rambles on in the background, "for dinner."

"So we can?"

"No because that's not dinner," he says, looking through the other pantries.

And he's glad he looked away, because Naruto pulls off this incredibly depressed, heartbroken expression. It kills him, truly does. What's worse is he's got good peripheral vision and ends up seeing the shining disappointment anyway.

Though all the shyness evaporates under the intense ferocious cry, "But Sasuke!" the 'but' drawls to a long, whiny crescendo, "I really want pudding."

He ignores the lightning ball whizzing about his feet, and focuses on calling in an order of groceries. Ought to stick to his guns, since no means no. Though Naruto literally pulls at his wild blond hair in anticipation, even pacing around in front of the television.

So when Sasuke moves to sit on the couch, Naruto catapults beside him. "I said please didn't I? I asked nicely, doesn't that count for anything?"

Sasuke fishes for the remote to change the channel, and to lower the volume because Naruto's worsening the headache.

"Come on. I want it so badly. Think about it. Nice, creamy pudding, come on! How can you say no?"

Unfolds his laptop, and he types in a password. E-mails flicker to his screen, from professors, from classmates, and from Sakura Haruno. But before he can get a chance to open her letter, a loud vociferation slices the very atmosphere like clapping thunder.

"Why can't I have? I don't get it," cries Naruto, shaking the couch pillows in uproar.

In fact, he's got several reports of his own to finish. At this thought, Sasuke narrows his eyes. Massages a throbbing temple, for with work and class in the morning, he won't have time to complete any assignment tonight.

Naruto rips away from the couch, announcing, "Well I'm gonna help myself. Whether you say so or not."

And dropping to all fours, Naruto crawls over to the kitchen, imitating some sneaky animal about to ransack the refrigerator. However, upon one word, one command of Sasuke's voice, the crawling form shivers to a stop.

"Get over here now."

Not even a nefarious Mongolian leader could compete with Sasuke's imperative tone. Naruto was just no match for it.

Hobbling over in mock pain, Naruto stands to attention in front of Sasuke. Blocking the television, and the view of his laptop screen. Their eyes send each other jolting electrical currents, consequently, you could see visible twitching in the neck and above the brow.

Having sunk so deeply into the couch, Sasuke looks up to the looming distraught expression. This is killing him. Seeing Naruto all torn from not having the pudding, and the principle, the burning conviction of obeying the rules.

"You just never say why," grumbles Naruto, presenting his defense before the trial starts, "Like is there a bible for how dinners are supposed to be? We can't have our own way of eating?"

Sasuke stares flatly, expression plain as air. Thinking. You had to be careful not to get too deep, but not too shallow either.

"Tradition is important," he starts, "We eat together at a table. With an actual meal like any other normal family."

Stomping his feet, Naruto raises both arms in passionate outcry, "Tradition is stupid! There's no point to it. If we're hungry, who cares if it's on a table or even in bed, or on the bus? It's food. If it's tasty that's all that matters!"

"Yes when you're alone. But not when you're sharing with someone."

Naruto bristles in bewilderment. Blond brows furrowing, demanding explanation.

Sighing, Sasuke runs a hand through the matting fringes of his hair. "It's impolite. Uncultured," to which Naruto scowls unsurprisingly, so he adds, "And when you share food, you share the moment. The moment's important too, especially with family."

"I understand."

With that, Naruto turns on his heel, dashing to the kitchen.

Sasuke whips back, annoyed, "I said no, Naruto."

_Clack_. Naruto tears open the container, yelling, "Okay!"

"Then put the pudding back."

Hears the rummaging of silverware, and then, "Okay hold on!"

Unbelievable, as to the amount of wrathful vengeance prickling over his skin. Sasuke shoots to his feet, ready to dispatch a cold punitive course of action—practically a call to arms, as he's ready to bring Naruto to tears. He's done so before, appropriately and necessarily. For the nerve of Naruto, to impress further strain on an already stressful damned evening.

That's when, before he could decide on which punishment to deliver, what he sees, stops him in his tracks.

"So we'll eat it together," twitters Naruto, carrying over two small bowls, "we can eat and share a moment, like you said."

The fists he clenched, now unfurls.

"Come on, you know you wanna."

Lithely, Naruto twirls a path to sit back on the couch, whilst setting the desserts on the coffee table. Plopping down with an '_ah_!', Naruto raises a smile as well as an expectant look.

"Tastes. So. Good," comes the teasing tone, licking a spoonful.

Part of him burns to rip the spoon out of that cocky mouth. "You didn't care for anything else I explained," he says, in disbelief.

"Tch. Sometimes you got to do what you want S'uke," retorts the other hotly, tapping the spoon against the ceramic like a bell, "because then you'll miss out on moments too."

The cricks in his neck soften. Not because Naruto was cute or anything, but the kid's an awfully good negotiator. A good diplomat, even. Sasuke can't help but encourage it, because he felt so proud in that moment. Very proud, it was hard to explain why exactly.

"Just this once," Sasuke grates out, but that was all an act; like his final domino of resolve careened over, but it wasn't really. He's more stubborn than Naruto, in every game of charades, and this included. "You hear me? Because next time you'll get it."

Of course, no surprise, Naruto employs a funny way to savor the custard. And it completely distracts and disarms his, well pseudo, anger.

That is, obsessed with tasting rather than eating, Naruto smears it all over his lips, then parts a mouth coated with cream, saying, "Look, it's pudding chapstick."

As if by reflex, Sasuke pulls a napkin from the table, to dab away the messy face.

But Naruto stretches out his arms. "Just hold on," more cream's spread over the jaw, and over his cheeks, "Now I'm Santa. Look. I need to shave, see?"

"You play with your food too much."

Again Sasuke leans over to wipe away the mess, because everything ought to be neat—like hardwired into his very nerves.

"Hold on," this time, Naruto has his arms out like a shield, "You can't use tissues."

"What are you saying?"

With the air of a person who's struck gold, Naruto explains, "Using _that_ would just waste all this delicious, yummy, cream."

"You're the one who's wasted it, not me," he says carefully.

But still, not even the perfect counter—the perfect words—could blunt the number-one kid's bag of surprises.

"It's not a waste. Watch!"

Rising up, Naruto leans over and brings their faces close to gravitational climax. You could kill someone, or kiss them in this kind of closeness; but instead only air buzzes between. Light spangles, winds breeze, and Sasuke loses ground. The couch pushes back against his spine as he presses away in retreat—away from the sweet smell and the puckered mouth.

Yet Naruto crawls to him, glowing with ambition.

And he can't let. Not again. He can't let them fit like this.

"Back off, moron," now it's Sasuke who puts hands out, "the game's finished."

Instead, Naruto wedges in between the defending arms. "Whatt'ya mean finished? The game didn't even start!"

_Not again._ They just fit too perfectly. Two broken cookie pieces fixed together, meant to be whole. Like in his dreams, like ripples of water adding to great waves. And he had the power to break away, keep them apart—except now, how can he?

When sweet cream frames the love in Naruto's eyes, and he wonders what the taste would feel. To run a tongue over the burning temples, the determined brow, let their skin connect, hear them breathe together: and Sasuke leans forward evermore, stepping on the blurring edge of curiosity and affection. Holding. Never capturing, and never falling. Wanting. Only grasping, and never seizing.

So he fists the dainty shoulders tight enough, reeling them apart. "I said stop."

"Tch. What are you so tight for? It's just pudding."

And the fact's so true, painfully plain and simple, his mouth parts in a grunt. However in the next beat of his heart, Sasuke sees his reflection bouncing off the clear cyan irises. Shimmers of light dances the corners of his bended image: clearer than any mirror he's looked upon. He sinks forward. Allows the space to blur and soften, so their foreheads bump.

He can't…

Rip away. Fighting the gravity hurts like needles prodding. He hears ringing: faint before, now booming madly. As Naruto climbs over him inch by inch, setting off the bells. Hearing still—only the intense pounding of his heart, sounding like a mad alarm of defeat. And unconsciously his fingers brushes the fair locks of gold aside as he lets Naruto mount him, completely filling his lap.

"Just a game, S'uke…don't be so tight."

That's when Naruto nudges their chins together, smearing custard over the corners of Sasuke's mouth.

He grimaces, while rest of him melts.

"What the hell is with you," he gets out, words burning like hot water.

Instead of answering, Naruto snickers. Pops the air with muffled, ill suppressed laughter. Of course. This is all just horsing around, a little adventure, what with Naruto smiling like a goofball, expression painted with custard. How could anyone be serious around this?

"Look at you," chortles Naruto, so very close; any sudden movement and they'll surely fall into each other completely.

He looks. Into the mirrors, the prisms of light snatching his attention; and his reflection appears so pure and beautiful, he almost thinks he's hovering over a heavenly lake atop the mountain. No, these are his little brother's eyes—crystal lens wavering with untainted affection, showing him exactly how Naruto views the world. How much he has to live up to. He couldn't tear away from the view.

"I see," he finally breathes, as the very air exchanges between them.

Naruto tips up, brushing creamily cold lips over his own. Completely gripping his spirit into transfixation. The vanilla taste dabs and melts into his heart, and he can't close his eyes. Can't even blink. For if he ever loses sight of Naruto's hopeful eyes, like lighthouses illuminating the stormy haze, he'll fall prey to hell itself. As long as he sees himself in Naruto, he will never fall.

Nipping at him, until Naruto mumbles over his mouth, "See? Without napkins."

"You're a moron," he says, filler words plugging the drain and savoring this moment.

"But I got a hundred on my spelling test, S'uke. You said…you said I was smart."

"I take it back."

Naruto snickers again, puffs of sweet air rolling over both their mouths. "You can't take it back. Just 'cos you're losing…"

'Losing', had to be one of those damned trigger words. Especially out of Naruto's mouth, too, because he's got to be a winner in those perfect, pure eyes.

Gripping the dainty shoulders, Sasuke keeps them both steady. "What am I losing exactly?"

"You never listen. I said—I said whoever cleans the other person without napkins, wins. I win, you lose," laughs the other, rumbling with hearty joy.

"Without napkins, huh?"

"Yeah!"

"Then it's my turn."

Naruto freezes. Serious challenges never are a laughing matter. "O-oh yeah?"

With his right hand, he grips the scruff of Naruto's neck, and with his left, cups the distended cheek. He won't fall, he won't even feel. As long he sees himself in the divine mirrors before him, ceaselessly like glittering pathways—leading him.

Holds tightly, as he entrenches his fingers deep into the blond hair, warm like fur, pulling them close. Revisits the contact. Without removing their clashing gazes, he presses aching lips under the round jaw. That's when he realizes not even thickest, coolest creams could muffle the burning heat radiating from Naruto, overwhelming his palate. Still, he sees himself, feels himself in Naruto.

And yet, when he kisses a curve over the soft bone of the jaw, he grips tighter. As if to prevent from dropping, especially when Naruto laughs in his ear, like cackling flames snapping his hackles to attention. Tastes the nectar of a sunflower under bright rays, shaking in the wind, shaking them, drifting deep, deeper in.

_Can't keep open._ The door opening wide, and the melting warmth tears in his bones. Shuts his eyes, falling and crashing, and finally whirls them flat to the floor, tumbling together.

He rises on top, palms flat either side of Naruto's grinning face.

Everyone…everything are soft blurs. Except this, except for his brother who cut his chains, delivered him time and time again.

"Hey Sasuke," breathless echoes of birds in the trees.

Told Naruto to run. Told him to leave and never turn back, let him burn in that house—

Slumps forward, stretching lower to the trembling, giggling form underneath him. Kisses the blond brows, knitted together in intense joy, and then he lets their noses bump and graze. As if considering, as if hovering by magnetism. Swaying like boats on water. Winds again, and again. He follows the breeze, and topples beside Naruto, collapsing.

"Naruto," he breathes and sinks, onto the earthy grass.

A fistful of his carpet, however, softly pressing his fingertips…reminds him where they truly are.

"Do I taste good?" demands Naruto, rolling over to him.

Licks his own lips, looking to the ceiling. The taste, and excitement, reminding him…

…how he truly is.

"Do I taste good, S'uke?"

That's when his phone goes off. Ringing sirens, in some way rescuing, promising the paramedics…in another, instilling fear, like trampling stomps of the coppers, eager to chain him again.

Immediately Sasuke disconnects them, untangles from Naruto's hold; difficult to separate like pulling a knot, as their bodies entwine naturally as vines.

Naruto dances to the cellphone's tune, waving arms in the air like turbines. "Hah. Hah, I win, see? You walked away. Quitter, loser, Sasuke! Oh yeah!"

Ignoring the rambunctious bee at his side, Sasuke sits back on the couch. "Hello?"

"_Sasuke_," he hears Sakura through the speakers.

Great. At this hour, he'd actually prefer the coppers.

At the sound of her sharp greeting, he tips his head back in annoyance. "Yes?" he churns out.

"_You missed today's shift too_?" Her high-pitched intonation rings in his ear. "_Especially when you didn't inform me._"

Funny how she always twists a given situation around. "I e-mailed you a day in advance, Professor," he tells her.

"_No I require that you at least call me, Sasuke, and besides you know where my office is. You could have at least stopped by—_"

"Fine," he intercedes, tired of her voice.

"_Fine? Well I want you to stay a couple hours tomorrow, because that's fine. Not showing up, being irresponsible, that's not fine with me._" She breathes out after a pause, and he could almost hear her nostrils flaring, "_Come early tomorrow and stay late, so you could make up all the work that you missed._"

Sasuke fixes his intense, angry stare to the ceiling. "That won't work for me."

"_Make it work._"

Unconsciously, he glances at the expectant expression glimmering by his side. "No," he says, "you don't understand. I'm unable to stay late into evenings because of—"

"_Other obligations_," she practically growls, "_well then, Sasuke. I can't accept such a vague answer anymore, not when my own project's stalled. In fact, I might as well find a replacement, someone who'll appreciate th—_"

"Will you calm down, Sakura?" he murmurs, as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

At the sound of her first name, a sound so rare but beautiful, her rant dies. She's asked him to call her Sakura before, but this is indeed the first time she's probably heard it. "_I...I am calm_," she manages. But her heart's aflutter and ablazen, she makes a strangled noise, that his ears catch hold of.

Sasuke closes his eyes, carefully considering. He could put Naruto in one of those after school programs on a Saturday, the teachers mentioned some kind of arts and crafts class and a whole movie showing in the auditorium—and it was free, even. Thing is, Naruto'd want to go too.

"Will this Saturday be alright instead?" he then asks her, but seductively. He ought to charm her a little, because she'll otherwise threaten him again.

After a short moment of consideration, she complies, "_Yes. From ten to five._"

"Is that all, professor?"

She drawls out a sound of acquiescence, at the sudden shift back into formality. "_Suppose for now, that's it. Hey Sasuke..._"

"Yes?"

"_Next time, all you really need to do is talk to me, by phone or face to face. I don't like it any other way,_" she asserts, tone gradually softening, "_and that goes for anything. If you need to get something off your chest, don't hesitate to knock on my door._"

Knock on my door, his ass. She just won't stop, not until she scores him off like a checklist of her perfect day. Swallowing the blood of the unsaid, he answers with a clipped thank you.

And when he hangs up, Naruto leans over him, with wide eyes. "Who was that?"

"My sensei," quips Sasuke, squeezing his temples for a moment.

"Do you like your sensei?"

One look at those wide eyes, you couldn't possibly be truthful. Couldn't be truthful with anything, really. Like telling the tooth fairy doesn't exist, or Darwin's evolution's right, or that Santa's made up. Women were heart-eaters, man-eaters. The only one to trust was mother, and she's dead. And you could see these truths are ugly. He couldn't be even half truthful about these things; and yet Sasuke hates to lie.

"Sometimes," he compromises, "but you show respect anyway, understood?"

Naruto sticks his tongue. "Yeah, sure. If they let me do what I want."

Like lightning, Sasuke pummels Naruto face down into the couch.

"Don't be stupid," he admonishes, not before Naruto retaliates.

That is, Naruto peels his face off the cushions, like a little soldier, fighting the grip off the scruff of his neck. Tries prying Sasuke's slender fingers one by one, and when that fails, wholly wrestles and shakes, to little avail. And although Sasuke easily fends off each attempt of escape, he softens his hold, at some point letting himself be smacked away.

Free again, Naruto shakes like a lion, and roars, "Tell me why I should respect someone who doesn't earn it?"

"You respect your teachers because that's cultured," Sasuke grits out.

"Well I don't care about no culture. I don't hand out my respect to just anyone!"

As soon as Sasuke lifts up a hand, threatening to deliver another nuggie: Naruto braces himself, even goes as far as to shake Sasuke's shoulders.

"Come on," wheedles Naruto, growling, "Why? What's wrong with giving it to someone who earns it! That's my way and 'm sticking to it."

"Naruto."

"Yeah?"

"Go clean your face and brush your teeth. We're done."

You'd think he threw a boulder, shattering the perfect grin into sad gravel bits. "W-what?"

"I'm tired and you're annoying me."

"But we…but it's not even eight yet!"

Into the wide mirrors again, he looks.

This time, he sees his bended image: a shadow of it. A dark, steadily blooming flower of hatred, glistening with drops of ice, sprouting buds of revenge. For the roots Sakura planted into his mind, rots and festers, like fast spreading bacteria, completely contort him. Manifest through his pores and no…

Naruto shouldn't see him this way.

"Go to bed. Just go."

Expression sunders like a cracked shell, like he whipped Naruto into two parts: half quivering in concern, and the other rattling with defiance. Until finally running out with childish impatience, Naruto dismounts.

Just when he thought that'd be the end, Naruto unsheathes a card from his froggy pajama pockets.

"Listen, S'uke," declares Naruto, holding out the card, "I wasn't gonna give you this because I got very jealous. I don't wanna share you with no one. But that ol' man gave me this…and said to give it to you…"

Like a flash, Sasuke snatches the thing as if it's a bomb about to detonate. Reads the text: psychiatrist, psychoanalyst—Kakashi Hatake. His breaths run shallower, quicker, and he's huffing like a bull about to charge.

"When did he give you this?" he grinds out.

"Y'know that time. When I—when I ran away. He told me some things…he said you were lonely—but I told that stupid old man you have me. But he said some scary things."

Now Sasuke leans forward, unable to keep the panic from his voice. "What scary things?"

"Don't 'member all of it," Naruto lies, anyone could see that, "but you need friends, don't you S'uke? That ol' guy said he'd be your friend."

"God damn it, Naruto. He wants my money, not my friendship for hell's sake," he snaps, massaging a hand over his own burning face.

"But he said—"

"I don't give a damn care what he said. You just don't listen to what strangers tell you—and I don't need friends."

"Everyone needs friends, come on, please just—"

Sasuke garrotes the loud rambling with a glare meant to kill. "In the first place, whatever he's told you is a lie. You hear? Everything he told you was a lie, so don't you dare turn against me. And in the second place," his tone drops hard and cold, "You can't just trust someone who acts nice, that's dangerous."

"Why?" cries out Naruto, whirling away, "Why does everyone have to be liars and strangers? Why can't we make one friend together?"

They were all rhetorical questions Naruto throws in his tantrum. And suddenly Sasuke feels sapped and exhausted as if he's just ran miles—he's not even sure what Kakashi told his brother—and he's too damned scared to find out.

He hears Naruto stomp off eventually. Hears the bathroom door slam, too.

Now he's alone in the darkening room, and Sasuke doesn't bother to turn on the lights. Though the laptop glares quite mockingly, telling him the three essays and reports he has yet to complete.

And he sinks even lower into the cushion. Weighed down by much more than just homework, and he gives the card a good one over before tossing it aside. But not in his head, never in his head. Unfinished business always haunts him like a demon.


End file.
